Can I?"
"You--you mean--" she begins.
"Uh-huh!" says I. "Until some time I can fit one on--well, one that
the best man hands me. Come on, Auntie. Have a heart!"
"You ridiculous boy!" says she. "If you must, though--"
Say, I wasn't lookin' for that next move of hers. Think of it--Auntie!
And she lands one right on my cheek, too. Everyone sees it. And,
while I'm pinkin' up like a cranberry tart, Old Hickory sings out
gleeful:
"Tut, tut, Cornelia! What is this all about?"
"I suppose," says Auntie, "that we must drink a toast to these
youngsters of ours. That is, if Verona insists on being so foolish."
"How about it, Vee?" I whispers, capturin' her left hand. "Do we let
'em drink?"
"Silly!" says she. "The other finger."
It's a bit public, I admit. Might as well have hired a hall. But they
all seems to enjoy handin' us the jolly. Mr. Ellins makes a reg'lar
speech, tellin' how fond he is of both of us and how this event pleases
him more'n findin' the buried treasure. He winds up by askin' if
everybody ain't about ready to start back for New York. The vote is
unanimous.
"Why not to-night?" asks J. Dudley.
"To-night it shall be," says Old Hickory.
"Say, Mr. Ellins," I breaks out just then, "lemme pass the word on
that, will you?"
And, when I gets the nod, I breezes out on deck and up to the Captain's
stateroom.
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