Sailing across to the landing, they found Rod awaiting them, and then the sloop’s bow was turned toward the sea.
“Now, which way do you want to go?” asked Jack. “The water is dead calm.”
“How about a run down the coast as far as Penley?” Martin suggested, glancing sideways at Hegan.
“It’s all the same to me,” replied Hegan, airily. “So long as I’m afloat with a good cigar in my mouth, it don’t make any odds whether we go north, south, east, or west.”
“All right,” said Jack.
Soon after they got clear of the harbor and round the end of the breakwater, however, Hegan, for some unaccountable reason, changed his mind.
“Let’s run up the coast, as far as Indian Head,” he said.
“I thought you didn’t care where you were so long as you were afloat,” replied Jack, laughing. “We mightn’t be able to get back if this bit of a breeze dropped, because of the tide.”
“Oh, come on,” said Hegan, with rough good humor. “Let’s take a chance. I’d like to see the coast around that way, and this wind ain’t goin’ to drop.”
“Well, if you really want to,” agreed Jack. “But don’t blame me if you miss your train through not getting back on time.”