Altogether, her discoveries did not amount to very much. She was
obliged to confess as much to herself. As for Tommy, that young woman
had conducted herself admirably during the sail, proving that she was
discreet and fully as keen as was Harriet Burrell; and, though Tommy
said very little on the subject uppermost in the minds of the two
girls, the little girl was constantly on the alert.
In the joy of sailing they forgot their noon meal. Nor were they
reminded of it when Captain Bill, giving Harriet the wheel, made
himself a cup of black coffee over an oil stove and drank it, eating
several slices of dry bread. Having finished his luncheon, he
pointed to the compass, asking Harriet if she knew anything about it.
She said she did not.
[Illustration: Harriet Took the Wheel.]
"If you are going to be a sailor, you must learn to read the compass,"
he said. "In the first place, you must learn to 'box the compass.'
I'll show you."
"Are you looking for the boxth?" questioned Tommy, observing the
skipper searching for something in a locker under the stern seat.
"Box? No," he grunted. "We don't use that kind of a box in boxing the
compass. By boxing the compass we mean reading the points of it." He
produced a long, stiff wire, with which he pointed to the compass
card.
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