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Ford, Sewell, 1868-1946

"Wilt Thou Torchy"


I pries my eyes open, and finds one of the crew standin' over me,
urgin' me to get up.
"Wrong number, Jack," says I. "I ain't on the night shift."
"It's the young lady, sir," says he. "You're to dress and come on
deck."
"Eh?" says I. "Have we been U-boated or Zepped? All right; I'll be
there in two minutes."
And I finds Vee costumed businesslike in a middy blouse and khaki
skirt, stowin' things away in a picnic hamper.
"What's the plot of the piece?" I asks, yawny.
"Auntie and Mr. Ellins haven't come back yet," says she. "It's after
three o'clock. Something must have happened."
"But Captain Killam is with 'em," says I.
"What use is he, I'd like to know? Torchy, we must go and find them."
"But I don't know any more about runnin' a motor-boat than I do about
playin' a trombone," I protests.
"I do," says Vee. "I learned in Bermuda one winter. I have coffee and
sandwiches here. They'll be hungry."
"Better put in some cigars for Mr. Ellins," says I. "If he's run out
of smokes I'd rather not find him."
"Get cigars, then," says she. "I have the small launch all ready."
"How about taking one of the crew?" I suggests.
"Bother!" says Vee. "Besides, they've seen sharks and are all
frightened. I'm not afraid of sharks.


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