Four Afloat Part 20

"To-night?" asked Bob.

"I don't care. In the morning, if you fellows think it'll be safe to stay until then. Only we want to get out before Captain Chowder begins to use the wires."

"I tell you!" exclaimed Nelson. "Just as soon as it's light we'll run outside a ways and put Spencer in the tender. Then he can row around and keep out of the way until we get our tank filled again. And then we can pick him up."

"Dandy!" cried Tom. "And if they come and search us they won't find him!

And we can tell them that he fell overboard and--"

"And was swallowed by a whale," laughed Bob. "That's a good scheme, though, Nel. Would you mind if we did that, Spencer?"

"No, sir. I'd be all right if you left me some oars."

"Of course we'll leave you oars," said Nelson. "That's settled then. But we want to get out pretty early and be back here before the folks along the wharves are taking notice."

"Well," said Dan, "we'll get Tommy to wake us."

"Hope you choke," responded Tom dispa.s.sionately.

"Haven't anything to choke on," answered Dan. "Pa.s.s me the bread."

"I don't believe the telegraph office will be open until about eight o'clock," said Bob. "And it isn't likely that the _Scout_ would get back to Sanstable to-night in time for the captain to telegraph. So I guess we're safe until, say, nine to-morrow morning. That being the case, and Dan having eaten the last thing on the table, I will adjourn to the deck."

"There's some more coffee in the pot," said Tom.

"Couldn't drink another drop, Tommy. I've had three cups already. Come on, Barry; you and I'll go up and look at the moon."

"Isn't any," grunted Tom.

"What!" exclaimed Bob. "No moon? How careless of the weather man! Then we'll look at the nice little lantern at the bow, Barry."

"Oh, we'll all go up," said Dan. "I want a breath of air. How about the dishes, though?"

"Let 'em go," muttered Tom lazily.

"Couldn't I do them?" asked Spencer.

"Why-do you mind?" asked Nelson.

"I'd like to," was the answer.

"All right, then; go ahead. I guess Tommy will let you."

If there was any objection from Tom it was so slight that no one noticed it.

Up in the c.o.c.kpit the Four made themselves comfortable in the chairs and on the seat, while Barry curled up into a perfectly round bunch in Dan's lap. The breeze still held from the southward and the night was quite warm, and, although Bob continued to complain at intervals over the absence of moonlight, the stars glittered in an almost cloudless sky and shed a wan radiance of their own. Somewhere in the darkness along the wharves a concertina was stumbling uncertainly through the latest success in rag-time melody.

"Say, Bob," said Dan, "you can do worse than that. Get your mandolin."

So Bob got it and the concertina was soon drowned out. Spencer crept up and silently snuggled himself in a corner of the c.o.c.kpit. The lights in the town went out one by one and four bells struck in the cabin.

"h.e.l.lo!" exclaimed Nelson. "This won't do, fellows, if we're going to make an early rise. Come on, Dan, and help me fix up the berth for Spencer."

So the pipe berth in the engine room was pulled out and the other beds were levied on for a pillow and blankets, and half an hour later only Tom's snores disturbed the silence.

At half-past six the next morning the _Vagabond_ turned her bow toward the harbor entrance, pa.s.sed the light at the end of Long Point and went westward for a half-mile along the sh.o.r.e. Then the tender was put over and Spencer, his own attire supplemented with an extra sweater of Bob's, jumped into it.

"If I had some line and a hook," said Spencer gravely, "I could catch you some fish."

"That's so!" said Nelson. "And I think there's fishing tackle aboard somewhere. Wait a moment and I'll see if I can't find it."

"Yes," remarked Dan casually, "and you might dig a few worms while you're down there."

Nelson's enthusiasm wilted and he joined in the laugh.

"I forgot about bait," he said. "I guess you couldn't catch much without bait, eh, Spencer?"

"You leave me the line," answered the boy, "and I guess I can find some bait somewheres."

So Nelson rummaged around and found what was wanted, and when the _Vagabond_ went chugging slowly and softly back toward the lighthouse and the harbor entrance Spencer, oars in hands, was pulling toward the outer beach. Back in the harbor Bob steered the launch up to a landing in the lee of a shed bearing the sign "GASOLINE" and made her fast. Then they set about completing their toilets, while Tom prepared breakfast.

By the time that repast was ready the waterfront was wide awake and the sun was shining warmly. After breakfast the tank was emptied and refilled with what was represented to be "the best gasoline on the Cape." As the boat's funds were depleted to the extent of almost twenty dollars when payment had been made, there was a unanimous hope among the crew that the claim would not prove too great.

"It's mighty expensive stuff, isn't it?" asked Tom. "Think what we could do with twenty dollars!"

"That's so, Tommy," said Nelson. "Gasoline doesn't taste as nice as caramels, but it's a lot better for fuel."

"Gee!" muttered Tom wistfully. "Think of twenty dollars' worth of caramels!"

Later, when they went shopping for provisions, Tom got into a candy store and wouldn't come out until he had bought a little of everything in sight. They returned to the wharf laden with bundles just as the clock struck ten.

"Now to pick up the tender and run around to Chatham," said Nelson as they went down the wharf.

But when the float lay below them Bob nudged his arm. On the edge of the float, seated on an empty nail keg and talking to the gasoline man, was a tall individual in a faded blue coat on the left breast of which glittered a badge.

"Cop!" whispered Bob.

As they went down, the tall man, who looked more like a sailor than a police officer, arose and awaited them. Then,

"You gentlemen own this launch?" he asked with a slow drawl.

"Well, we're sailing her," answered Nelson. "She belongs to my father."

"Pretty nice boat," said the other, his eyes traveling swiftly from one to another of the quartet. "Which of you is Spencer Floyd, now?"

"None of us," answered Nelson.

"Well, I got a message for him," said the officer. "You tell him I want to see him, will you?"

"He isn't here," said Nelson.