“That must be Mr. Amos Spofford,” declared Herb; “and he knows a good sleeping boat when he sees it, too; for you notice he’s camped in the Old Reliable.”
Jack waved his hand, and then called out.
“We’re coming aboard. Are you Mr. Spofford?”
“That’s my name. Glad to see you, boys. Come right along. You won’t be fired into the harbor if you try to get aboard!” came back the answering hail.
“Gee! I wonder if that’s what happened to Jared,” remarked Nick, as the party made for the landing, where a rowboat could be obtained in which to paddle out to the anchored flotilla.
Every boy had his eyes glued on the boat that, to his mind, represented all that was delightful. Many a happy day and night had they spent aboard these same craft in times that were gone; and the future opened up possibilities just as joyous.
One by one they climbed aboard the Comfort and shook hands with the jolly old gentleman whom they found there. None of the other boats could have accommodated them as readily as the big launch.
“Glad you got here safe and sound, boys. I imagine this is Jack Stormways. Introduce me to your chums, please, Jack. Told you not to worry. Camped right here ever since getting your message. Would have stayed a week if necessary, because you see I happen to be an old bachelor, without any family ties. Greatest pleasure I’ve had for many a year. Used to knock about myself, once upon a time, before I took on flesh. And let me tell you, lads, you’ve got the greatest little cruising outfits here I ever set eyes on. In my day we never knew such comforts, any more than we did such bully boats.”
In this fashion did Mr. Amos Spofford rattle on, for he was a great talker, and a retired lawyer as well. He quite staggered poor Buster by the immensity of his girth; for he was simply tremendous, and no mistake.
“Gracious!” Nick whispered to Herb, when he found the chance; “you don’t think, now, I’ll ever get to be like that, do you, Herb? Oh, if I thought so I’d starve myself.”