Page:Cruise of the Dry Dock.djvu/57

 waves that rose a moment in the gray seascape, nodded a white cap, then dropped back into the waste of water.

“Wonder if a storm would affect this old box much?” he queried of Caradoc.

“Probably have a chance to see,” opined Smith, looking out with a speculative eye. “By the by, what's that?”

Caradoc pointed toward the Vulcan, which already exhibited the motion of the rollers.

Madden looked. A sailor stood on the tug's round stern waving two flags toward the dock.

The American arose from his work, funneled his hands before his lips and called to the man, but the spitting wind whisked away his words, and the sailor went on with his flag.

Madden regarded it attentively a few moments. “He's wig-wagging—wants to speak to the mate. I'll go for him.” He trotted aft.

Leonard found the officer in his cabin and told his mission. The mate arose at once and came out with the lad. “Don't know w'ot 'e wants, do you?” he inquired.

“I only spelled his message till I found he wanted you.”