The nephew approached, peering over the captain’s shoulder. It was a tiny speck, quite dead.
“What is it, Josh?” his sister said, breathing against his neck. The nephew turned sharply.
“Gabriel’s pants,” he said. “What are you doing down here? Who told you to come down here?”
“I wanted to come, too,” she answered, crowding against him. “What is it, Captain? What’ve you and Gus got?”
“Here,” her brother thrust at her, “get on back on deck where you belong. You haven’t got any business down here.”
“What is it, Captain?” she repeated, ignoring him. The captain extended his rag. “Did the engine kill it?” she asked. “Gee, I wish we could get all of ’em down here and lock the door for a while, don’t you?” She stared at the engine, at the flickering rockerarms. She squealed. “Look! Look how fast they’re going. It’s going awfully fast, isn’t it, Captain?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the captain replied. “Pretty fast.”
“What’s her bore and stroke?” the nephew asked. The captain examined a dial. Then he turned a valve slightly. Then he examined the dial again. The nephew repeated his question and the captain told him her bore and stroke.
“She revs up pretty well, don’t she?” the nephew suggested after a while.
“Yes, sir,” the captain answered. He was busy doing something with two small wrenches, and the nephew offered to help. His sister followed, curious and intent.
“I expect you’d better let me do it alone,” the captain said, courteous and firm. “I know her better than you, I expect . . . Suppose you and the young lady stand over there just a little.”
“You sure do keep her clean, Captain,” the niece said. “Clean enough to eat off of, isn’t she?”
The captain thawed. “She’s worth keeping clean. Best
