"I don't know anything about you," said Squire Sylvester to the captain of the Leopard; "this other party may settle with you."
"I'll pay any bill," said Dave to the Leopard, whose steam was escaping in a low growl.
"Can't waste any more time," snarled the Leopard. He rang the signal-bell to the engineer, and off went his tug.
"Well, where are your companions?" said Squire Sylvester to Dave.--"O Giles," he added to the Panther, "you may start up your boat if you have made fast to the schooner."
"Weigh the anchor fust, sir."
"Oh yes, Giles."
The anchor weighed, the Panther then sneezed, splashed, frothed, and the Relentless followed it. Squire Sylvester declared that he must find the other runaways; that they must be on board the schooner, and he would hunt for them. He discovered them down in the hold, and out of the shadows crawled four sheepish, mortified hide-aways.
And so back to its moorings went the old schooner.
Back to his office went Squire Sylvester, mad with others, and mad with himself because mad with others.
Back to their homes went a shabby picnic party, and after them came a bill for the expense of the Relentless's return trip. It costs something in this life to find out that the thing easily started may not be the thing easily stopped.