3. The Start of the Cruise
As the clock which Jim had lost was a very valuable one, they wasted no time in reporting the circumstances to the police. Early in the morning the boys were up, and spent the time immediately after breakfast in loading last minute articles on the sloop. Don found that the lock on the companionway had been tampered with.
“Somebody tried to get in here,” he said, showing the others the lock, which was slightly twisted. “But I guess they found it too much of a job.”
After they had reported the entire matter to the chief of police, who promised to have the waterfront searched for the thieves, the boys ran down in Terry’s car to the local drugstore and bought a case of cokes. When they had loaded it on the boat, and final instructions had been half-jokingly given them by Mr. and Mrs. Mercer, the boys were prepared to go.
Don went below, bending over the engine, while Jim sat at the tiller, his fingers on the starting switch. Terry, feeling useless as a sailor, sat in the cockpit, watching the proceedings. Jim nodded to him.
“Cast off the painter, will you, Terry?”
Terry looked helplessly around. “When did a painter get aboard?” he asked.
Jim laughed. “The painter is that rope at the bow,” he explained. “Throw it to Dad.”
Terry took the painter and tossed it to Mr. Mercer, who caught it and placed it on the ground. Don turned the flywheel and the motor began to churn. Slowly, Jim advanced the spark, pushing the tiller from him. Like some graceful bird the Lassie turned in the creek, her nose pointing toward the ocean.
The boys waved goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Mercer and Margy and the sloop headed out to the mouth of the creek. As it cleared the banks at the mouth of the channel it struck the small ocean waves, bounding and dipping like a thing alive. The little ship seemed glad to get out on its own element. The boys were fairly launched on their cruise.