"You've been in the sun, too," he said.
"Yes; on the beach."
"D'you ever burn?"
"No."
"I thought you didn't; you just take to the sun. I finally do, after two days beet-red."
She gazed at him, with his warm beet-redness, and longed doubly for her dream of him under shade trees.
"What luck?" she asked him.
"Blob to-day; but yesterday! D'you hear, I've signed before the mast? I'm regularly on the Arletta's starboard watch. And what d'you suppose lies before me? We're entered in the big race from Chicago to Mackinac, and Lyman Howarth comes on from the East for that. He always does; says it's the sportiest sailing race on water, fresh or salt. Place him?"
"Mr. Lyman Howarth?" said Ellen. "Isn't he?"
"The same," assured Jay. "He's the one I met at midnight in New York and introduced to my brother-in-law after he'd been trying to reach him, for two years. Lyman Howarth is young but he has a lot of say in New York; and he comes out to stand starboard watch in the race with me. A couple of days and nights steady going, with good weather; in bad—the Lord knows."
Ellen watched him. "Sometimes I've seen them start from here," she said at last. "When I'm home, I see them finish."
"Do you," said Jay, not thinking of her now, but sticking to business. "How would you make out a report on the prospect card for Howarth? 'Yesterday, sailed with Ken Howarth; joined his crew; will be in the same watch
