"Ship ahoy!" shouted Dave from the boat. "How many days out? Where you bound? Short of provisions?"
"Three cheers for this shipwrecked mariner just arrived!" cried Dab. And the hurrahs went up triumphantly in the moonlight. Dave threw up to the boys the much-desired painter, and the runaway boat was securely fastened.
"There, Dave!" said Dick, as he welcomed on deck the merman: "I was just going after that thing myself, just thinking of jumping into the water, but you got ahead of me. Somehow, I hate to leave this old craft."
"I expect," said Dab Richards, a boy with short, stubby black hair and blue eyes, and lips that easily twisted in scorn, "we shall have such hard work to get Dick away from this concern that we shall have to bring a police-officer, arrest, and lug him off that way."
"Shouldn't wonder," replied Dick. "Couldn't be persuaded to abandon this dear old tub."
"Well, boys, I'm going to the lighthouse as soon as I'm dressed," said Dave.
There was a hubbub of inquiries and comments.
"What for?" asked Dick. "Ain't we all right?"
"I hope so; but I want to keep all right. I want to ask the light-keeper--"
"But all we have got to do is to pull up anchor when the tide comes, and drift back."