“He certainly did a plucky thing,” agreed Ned. “It takes courage of the right sort to put through what he did.”
“Bother it all,” exclaimed the inventor, after a few minutes’ work on the pipe. “I’ve just recalled that we have no red lead to make the joint tight with. We used up our last yesterday. I wonder if one of you would mind going up to the village for some.”
“Not a bit,” said Ned. “I’m pining for exercise. Herc, here, and myself will be up there and back in no time.”
Thanking them, Mr. Lockyer gave them directions where to go, and some money. The Dreadnought Boys were soon off on their errand. The shop found, it did not take long to make their purchases and, with the parcel under Ned’s arm, they started back.
“There’s a short cut to the water, through that field there,” said Ned, as they came to a turning. “Let’s take it and save time.”
Accordingly, they presently emerged in a low-lying meadow, thickly grown with clumps of alders and other swamp shrubs. A path threaded among them, however, which apparently led almost direct to the boat yard.
“We’d have saved time if we’d known about this before,” observed Ned, and was about to add something more when he stopped short. From what was apparently only a short distance ahead, there had come a cry of pain.
“Oh, don’t, please don’t, Mr. Anderson.”
“You young blackguard, I’ll break your arm for you if you don’t tell me everything,” growled out a voice they recognized as that of the recently discharged foreman. “It was you that told on me, wasn’t it?”