"I don't believe we're going to have any for several days, Leander," answered Dick, as he again surveyed the clouds.
"We're in for a big storm—I'm certain of it," came from Don. "If we—There goes Danny's gong!"
A loud beating of a wooden spoon on a tin platter had broken in on his speech. Now there appeared above the companionway steps the face of a chubby Irish lad wearing a big apron and a four-cornered cook's cap.
"All hands be afther comin' down fer dinner!" cried the young cook of the club. "An' don't waste no time or dem apple dumplin's will all be cold," she added.
"All right, Danny, we'll be down," answered Dick. "I can tell you what, boys, this sailing around gives a fellow a tremendous appetite."
"As if there was ever anything the matter with your eating apparatus," laughed Bob. "But say, Danny's bluefish does smell immense, doesn't it?" he went on, and was the first to slip down into the small but elegant cabin of which the Dashaway boasted. The others immediately followed, and soon all were feasting on the spread the Irish lad had prepared for them.
"Danny, I'll recommend you to the Waldorf-Astoria if ever I get to New York," observed Bob, as he paused, with a cob of green corn in
