The baskets were stowed as snugly as possible, and then Rattleton began to give orders.
“Haul away!” he cried. “Haul away on the throat halyards! Up with the peak! That’s right. Slack off the sheet a bit, Diamond. Lay her a bit more to port! Steady, so!”
The tide was running out, and the wind was light, but the Jolly Sport seemed eager to get out into the sound, and was soon running down past an anchored fishing vessel at good speed.
“Well, this is great!” muttered Hodge, as he lay back comfortably, lighting a cigar.
Down past the fort in Indian Hill they slipped, steered across to the old lighthouse, and tacked into the sound.
“Hurrah!” cried Skipper Rattleton. “The breeze is with us, boys!”
Then he sang a snatch of “A Life on the Ocean Wave.”
“What do you think of my singing?” he asked. “It’s entirely by ear.”
“Great heavens!” cried Merry, tragically. “That explains it!”
“Explains what?”