Alvin Landon had been toiling so long, often in a stooping posture, that he was tired. He sat down on one of the seats and his chum placed himself opposite.
“I’m mighty glad,” said the Captain, “for a fellow can’t do much of this in the dark, and I was bothered a good deal as it was.”
“It strikes me that you will be running into danger by going down the river to-night.”
“How?”
“There is no moon until late. Suppose the launch should break down when we were well out in Sheepscot Bay, wouldn’t we be in a fix?”
“Yes, but I hope she is through breaking down for some time to come.”
“So do I, but why take the risk, when there’s no necessity for it?”
“We aren’t fixed to sleep on board, though we could do it in a pinch, for the weather is mild.”
“Let’s go up to this village or town near by. I am sure we shall get accommodations for the night. Truth to tell, Alvin, I’m as hungry as I was at dinner to-day in Wiscasset.”
“The plan is a good one, though I don’t like to leave the boat by itself till morning. You know what happened the other night.”