“Fastened up to that old tree.”
“Oh, is it!” cried Bob derisively. “I should like to see it, then. Come and show me!”
Dexter ran to the water’s edge, and found the place on the bark where the chain had rubbed the trunk, but there was no sign of the boat.
“Now then,” cried Bob fiercely, “where is it?”
“I don’t know,” said Dexter dolefully. “Yes, I do,” he cried. “The chain must have come undone, and it’s floating away.”
“Oh, is it?” said Bob derisively. “Then you’d better go and find it!”
“Go and find it?”
“Yes; we can’t go to sea in our boots, can we, stoopid?”
“But which way shall I go, Bob? Sometimes the tide runs up, and sometimes it runs down.”
“Yes, and I’ll make you run up and down. You’re a nice un, you are! I just shet my eyes for a few minutes, and trust you to look after the boat, and when I wake up again you’re fass asleep, and the boat gone.”