"Oh, there's no danger. We'll be home in a jiffy. The tide is low and I'll have to go outside of Pumpkin Island to avoid the reef. Don't worry about us. The four of us could take her to New York to-night. Couldn't we, Jimmy?"
"Sure thing," said that individual, who rather enjoyed the prospects of the trip up. Lewis and the Codfish were not so hopeful, but they said they would stand by the ship. Mr. Armstrong turned again and left the boys with a last warning word.
"Where did the Human Fish, Peters, go to?" inquired the Codfish, as Jimmy fussed with the motor and Frank sponged off the seats. Very little water had entered the boat, most of it having been shed by the very efficient awning which covered her from bow to stern.
"Don't know," said Frank. "I wasn't interested in him after I saw that he hit the float first."
"Oh," said Lewis, "I saw him jump into his motor boat with that chap who got in your way, just as soon as the race was over, and light out. Guess they were trying to get down to the Peters' dock before the storm came on so hard."
"He had good nerve, starting then," said Jimmy.
"Or bad judgment," said the Codfish. "Sometimes the one looks like the other."
"Here, stop getting sarcastic and help with these ropes," growled Frank. "They are all in hard knots. What Indian tied them like this?"
Soon they freed themselves and the motor, under slow speed, began to revolve. They backed slowly out from the dock. Nothing was left of the gay scene of an hour or two before.
"Funny what a little water will do," observed the Codfish, turning to look at the deserted stand, pier and floats.