“Not it, sir. Just shows as they all know about the boat, and whose game it was.”
Aleck hurried off and obtained the simple provisions needed, and returned to find the last nails being driven triumphantly into the boat.
“There you are, Master Aleck,” cried Tom, “and I warrant she won’t leak a spoonful. There’s the tide just beginning to lap up round the stern, so we’ll get the rudder on again, step the mast, and put all ship-shape ready for a start, and if it’s all the same to you I’ll just light up my pipe at once, and smoke it as we get the tackle back in its place.”
“Go on, then,” said Aleck, and, after filling the bowl of his pipe, the sailor went to the glowing embers of the fire, one of which he picked up with his hardened thumb and finger, lit the tobacco, and began smoking away.
His first act was to scoop up a little water in the boat’s baler and extinguish the fire.
“Too hot as it is, Master Aleck. We can feel the way to our mouths, and I’m allus mortal feared of sparks blowing about among boats and sheds.”
The shipping of the rudder, the stepping of the mast, and fastening of the boat’s grapnel to the ring-bolt followed. Then oars, boat-hook, and ropes were laid in, and the pair seated themselves in the darkness, to begin discussing their much-needed meal, listening the while to the whispering and lapping of the water, Aleck thinking anxiously of how uneasy his uncle would be.
“How soon shall we be able to start, Tom?” he said.
There was a strange sound which made Aleck start.
“What?” he cried. “What’s the matter?”