Bob knew that there was a long pole out on the deck, and in another minute he was trying to use it but the water was too deep. He was unable to touch bottom.
“So near and yet so far,” he grinned, as he laid the pole down on the deck. “Guess I’ll have to wait till the wind carries her in a bit.”
Fortunately the wind, what there was of it, was in the right direction and soon he could see that the boat was slowly but surely getting nearer the wharf. He waited a few minutes and then tried again with the pole. This time he could easily touch bottom, and soon the bow of the boat gently hit the wharf. It was the work of but a moment to make her fast and then he returned to the engine room.
“All right now,” he greeted the Frenchman, who still sat in the chair looking, as he afterward told Jack, as though he had lost his last friend. “Come on and we’ll get Tom out of bed and he’ll set your arm.”
It was a little after four o’clock when they reached the office. The door was not locked, and opening it Bob stepped inside closely followed by his patient.
Tom Bean slept in a little bedroom which opened out of the office. The door of this room was closed, and as soon as he had a light going, Bob knocked loudly on it.
“Who’s there?” came a sleepy demand.
“It’s I, Tom,” Bob replied. “Can I come in?”
“Sure you kin,” and Bob pushed open the door and entered the room.
“Faith and what do yer mane by wakin’ an honest mon at this time o’ night?” Tom demanded as he sat up in bed.