Jack went on, believing in the old maxim that causes one to strike while the iron is hot.
"But I hain't had any dinner," said the fellow, with a cunning leer.
"Oh! we'll see that you get plenty to eat on the way. No use waiting here. Our time is limited, and we want to be going. Will you come along?" Jack said.
"Thet's all right, Mistah; yuh kin count on me, suh. A whole dollah yuh sed, didn't yuh, suh; and make out tuh git me back in Beaufort agin?"
"Yes, a dollar and a return ticket. Come along."
On the way Jack made several purchases that caused the hungry Pete to lick his chops, and hope he would be able to soon meet up with that promised lunch, for he was getting more and more hungry now with every passing minute. That twenty-five cents in his pocket felt like it weighed a ton, too, and he wondered if the young fellow, who he saw was a Northerner or a Yankee, as all such are called below Mason and Dixon's line, would wait for him while he exchanged it in a saloon.
But Jack hurried along, so that they arrived at the place where the three boats had been tied up before Pete could quite make up his mind what he ought to do.
Jack determined that he had not returned any too soon. A little crowd of rowdies had gathered near, and were beginning to make remarks about the boats and those aboard. Beaufort was no different from any other place, north or south; there are always some rough characters to be found, and when the town lies on the water it is generally the case that they frequent the landings.
George was sitting on deck, apparently shining up his gun. Jack knew, however, that this was all pretense, and that his chum wanted to let it be known that those in the motor boat flotilla were well armed, and, moreover, knew how to take care of themselves.
Pete was taken aboard the Tramp, because Jack wanted to talk with him while on the way. Then the start was made. Just as Jack had anticipated, some of the fellows on the shore called insultingly after them.