Tom clambered back aboard the “Meteor,” and, going aft, threw a line to Jed, who made fast around a butt at the bow of the launch. Then Jed came back.
“Now, Mr. Crane,” smiled Captain Tom, “we are again at your orders. Unless you think of something better, we can keep on to Nantucket.”
“Decidedly,” replied the lawyer. “We must acquaint Mr. Dunstan with this whole prepos—unaccountable story.”
As soon as the “Meteor” was well under way, on her homeward course, Halstead called down:
“Joe, I’ve stood this drenched clothing as long as I think is good for me in this sea wind. Take the wheel, please, and I’ll go below and get a rub and some dry clothing.”
“I’m going down with you,” broke in Jed. “There’s hot water, and you ought to have some coffee.”
Jed even helped vigorously in the rub-down. Tom’s teeth were chattering at the outset, but the friction warmed his blood. He put on dry clothing, of which he had enough aboard. And now Jed came out of the galley with a cup of steaming coffee.
“Say, Jed, what made you look so skittish when you boarded that other boat?” asked the young skipper, smiling. “Were you really afraid?”
“Afraid?” repeated Jed, looking sheepish. “Well, Tom, I’ll tell you how it is. When there’s no danger near, and I’m thinking over brave deeds, I’m a regular hero, and no mistake. But when I get right down where I think some one may be a going to open on me with both barrels of a shotgun, then I get—well, I won’t say afraid, but tormentingly nervous!”
Halstead laughed heartily.