The stranger with the sore head grumbled, but he could not help himself. He insisted, however, on taking the helm as the Clio moved out from the float.
She was scarcely a hundred yards away when a young man, panting with haste, rushed down the stairs from the boat-house. The reader would have known Patsy by his activity, despite his disguise.
"I want a boat," he cried out.
"Quite a run o' business for so early in the morning," said Uncle Jimmy, calmly. "What sort o' boat do you want?"
"I want one that can overhaul the one that just left the float."
"I ain't got it," said Uncle Jimmy. "The Curlew is about even with her, but they ain't one o' them that can outsail her."
"Then give me the Curlew, and do it in a hurry," cried Patsy.
"By whose orders, I'd like to know?"
Patsy was in no mood for trifling. He showed Uncle Jimmy in less than two seconds that obedience would pay well.
The Curlew also was hauled in to the float, and Patsy was aboard of her and clear of his moorings before anybody could stop him, or even get in with him.