“I don’t want to quarrel,” said Lester, who did not like the way Enoch glared at him.
“Then wait till I get through before you pass judgment upon the arrangements I have made,” exclaimed Enoch. “I didn’t promise Coleman—that’s the boat-keeper’s name—that we would return to Bridgeport with him, and neither did I say that he could bring the yacht back, for I don’t intend that he shall do anything of the kind.”
“How are you going to prevent it?” inquired Lester.
“That’s the best part of the plan,” said Jones. “Go on, Enoch.”
“This is the way we will prevent it,” continued the latter. “We’ll go with him as far as Windsor, and then we will stop and make an excuse to get him ashore. As soon as we are rid of him we’ll fill away for the bay. If the wind is at all brisk he can’t catch us.”
“What do you say to that?” demanded Jones.
“I say it looks like business,” answered Lester, who now, for the first time, began to take some interest in his scheme. “It’s all right, Enoch; you couldn’t have done better, and I couldn’t have done as well. There’s my hand.”
“I thought you would like it after you had given me a chance to explain,” said Enoch, growing good-natured again.
“So did I,” chimed in Jones. “We want to do something daring and reckless, you know; something that will make the good little boys open their eyes.”