CHAPTER 14. THE MARTHA
They were deep in a game of billiards the next morning, after the eleven o’clock breakfast, when Viaburi entered and announced,—
“Big fella schooner close up.”
Even as he spoke, they heard the rumble of chain through hawse-pipe, and from the veranda saw a big black-painted schooner, swinging to her just-caught anchor.
“It’s a Yankee,” Joan cried. “See that bow! Look at that elliptical stern! Ah, I thought so—” as the Stars and Stripes fluttered to the mast-head.
Noa Noah, at Sheldon’s direction, ran the Union Jack up the flagstaff.
“Now what is an American vessel doing down here?” Joan asked. “It’s not a yacht, though I’ll wager she can sail. Look! Her name! What is it?”
“Martha, San Francisco,” Sheldon read, looking through the telescope. “It’s the fi
