fur machinery," Zenas Henry remarked. 

 The observation struck a note of pessimism that rasped Willie's patience. 

 "There's got to be some accountin' fur this claptraption," retorted he, a suggestion of crispness in his tone.  "I shan't stir foot from this spot 'til I find out what's set it to actin' up this way." 

 Zenas Henry laughed at the declaration of war echoing in the words. 

 "I've given up flyin' all to flinders over everything that gets out of gear," he drawled.  "If I was to be goin' up higher'n a kite every time, fur instance, that the seaweed ketches round the propeller of my motor-boat, I'd be in mid-air most of the time." 

 Willie raised his head with the alertness of a hunter on the scent. 

 "Seaweed?" he repeated vaguely. 

 Zenas Henry nodded. 

 "Ain't there no scheme fur doin' away with a nuisance like that?" 

 "I ain't discovered any," came dryly from Zenas Henry.  "We've all had a whack at the thing—Captain Jonas, Captain Phineas, Captain Benjamin, an' me—an' we're back where we were at the beginnin'. Nothin' we've tried has worked." 

 "U—m!" ruminated Willie, stroking his chin. 

 "I've about come to the conclusion we ain't much good as mechanics, anyhow," went on Zenas Henry with a short laugh.  "In fact, Abbie's of the mind that we get things out of order faster'n we put 'em in." 

 Janoah Eldridge rubbed his grimy hands and chuckled, but Willie deigned no reply. 

 "This propeller now," he presently began as if there had been no digression from the topic, "I s'pose the kelp gets tangled around the blades." 

 "That's it," assented Zenas Henry. 

 "An' that holds up your engine." 

 "Uh-huh," Zenas Henry agreed with the same bored inflection. 

 Prev. P 17/181 next