The lieutenant, however, placed his hand comfortingly upon the disgusted lad’s shoulder.
“Never mind, my lad,” he said; “you are not the first boy—or man, for that matter—who has forgotten that there are more ways than one out of a difficulty. Is it any use pursuing them, I wonder?” he went on, turning to Mr. Lockyer.
“If you ask my advice I should reply in the negative,” was the answer. “No doubt they are both far away by this time.”
“And good riddance, too,” muttered Herc to himself, an opinion which was shared by the others.
“At any rate, we’ll have a good guard here for the remainder of the night,” said the foreman, and, in accordance with his resolution that no more attempts would be made on the boat with his knowledge, the faithful fellow passed the rest of the night on board. As for the others, with plenty to ponder over, they returned to the hotel, where they slept soundly till the dawn of the day which was to witness the launching of “Lockyer’s Dream.”
CHAPTER VII.
“I NAME YOU ‘LOCKYER.’”
Somehow one is always prone to associate the idea of a launching of a vessel of any kind with crowds, gaiety, and blaring brass bands. Except for the fact, however, that a brand-new flag floated above the boatyard on the day that the long-expected event was to take place, there was no sign that anything unusual was going on.
All hands reported at the yard early, the workmen in their best clothes, the naval contingent in uniforms. A few finishing touches remained to be put upon the boat, and the slight damage done by Anderson’s file to be adjusted. A little more than an hour sufficed for this, however, and then all was ready.