“We don’t know,” answered Nelson lamely. “We think, though, that she struck a rock or something.”
“Rock, eh?” said the other with a sniff. “Must have been inside the boat then, unless you had her turned inside out. See them splinters? Point outward, don’t they? Whatever made them holes was inside the boat, gentlemen.”
“That’s so,” Nelson acknowledged. “I wonder what did it.”
“If you’re asking me, ’twas a boat hook as did it. And it wa’n’t no accident, neither. Boat hooks don’t up of themselves and go to punchin’ holes in the bottom of a boat like that.” He looked expectantly around as though explanations were in order. But Nelson and the others only looked grave and unenlightened.
“Humph!” said the carpenter, returning to his examination of the injuries. But that “Humph!” said a whole lot.
“Can it be mended?” asked Nelson.
“Course it can be mended,” was the reply, “but I can’t do it here. I’ll have to put in two new planks. I’ll get my dory and tow her around to the shop.”
“How long will it take?” asked Bob.
“Oh, I cal’ate you can have her to-morrow some time.”
“That won’t do. We’ve got to start away first thing in the morning. Can’t you work on it this afternoon?”