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Updated: August 14, 2024
Loosening the thong that bound his so'wester to his chin, he slapped it twice across a chair back, the water flying in every direction, and then faced the room. "Mr. Bonner." "Yes, sir," answered the big-shouldered Texan, rising to his feet.
With the closing of the door the Captain rolled up the chart, laid it in its place among the others, readjusted the thong of his so'wester, stopped for a moment before a photograph of his wife and child, looked at it long and earnestly, and then mounted the stairs to the bridge.
One warm September day Archie turned into Yardley gate, his so'wester still on his head framing his handsome, rosy face; his loose jacket open at the throat, the tarpaulins over his arm. He had been outside the inlet with Tod since daybreak, in fact fishing for bass and weakfish. Jane had been waiting for him for hours.
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