"No, we don't want your help," answered Jack shortly. "We'll thresh all this out in court later on," he added.
"I'm a witness that it was an accident," shouted the elder Judson.
"You'll have a swell time proving I ran you down on purpose," added his son.
Seeing that it was useless to prolong such a fruitless argument at long distance, Jack refrained from making a reply. Besides, the Curlew required his entire attention now. He took the tiller himself and kept the injured craft inclined at such an angle that but little water entered the hole the Speedaway's sharp bow had punched in her.
The shore, on which were a few small houses and a wharf hidden among trees and rocks, appeared to be a long distance off. But the Curlew staggered gamely onward with Jack anticipating every puff of wind skillfully.
"I believe that we'll make it, after all," said Billy hopefully, as the water-logged craft was urged forward.
"I wish that Donald, with his sissy-boy clothes, was ashore when we land," grumbled Noddy. "I'd give him what-for. I have not forgotten how to handle my dukes, and as for his old octo-octo——"
"Octogenarian," chuckled Raynor.
"Octogenarian of a father,—I knew I'd get a chance to use that word——" said Noddy triumphantly; "he's worse than his son. They're a fine pair,—I don't think."
"Well, abusing them will do no good," said Jack. "We'll have to see what other steps can be taken. I'm afraid, though, that they were right; we'll have a hard time proving that it was not an accident, especially as Noddy had dropped our tiller."