It was an ideal afternoon, with the hot sunshine tempered by a cool breeze from the southwest. On the starboard the picturesque Connecticut shore lay near at hand, jutting out into little promontories and retreating to form charming bays and inlets. On their other side, the distant shore of Long Island showed blue and hazy across the smooth waters of the Sound.

They made New Haven at a little after seven, found anchorage and rowed ashore in the tender. They had dinner ashore, idled away an hour about town afterwards and turned in early. The next morning they paid a visit to the post office and were rewarded with a good-sized bunch of mail. Then Dan telegraphed his folks to expect them for dinner that evening, and at nine o’clock they were on their way again. There followed an enjoyable but uneventful day. There was plenty to look at, since the Sound was alive with boats of all sorts and descriptions. They passed Stamford at one o’clock, the Vagabond taking up the miles and tossing them astern in a very businesslike manner. Once in the East River it was necessary to slow down on account of the traffic. Ferry boats and excursion steamers persisted in getting in the way, and sailing yachts and launches were everywhere. At a few minutes before six the Vagabond sidled up to a wharf near the end of Fifty-first Street and was made fast for the night. Dan’s father knew the owner of the property—Dan had often gone in bathing from that very spot when a few years younger—and the watchman promised to keep an eye on the launch. They made very swell toilets and then piled out for a walk across town to Dan’s house.

That evening was a merry one. It was good to sit down once more at a table a-glimmer with cut glass and radiant with white napery and flowers; in fact, it was good to be at home again, even if the home didn’t happen to belong to them all. Mr. and Mrs. Speede, who were old friends since the Four had spent several days there the preceding summer before their walking trip, made Bob and Nelson and Tom feel quite as much at home there as Dan himself; although I don’t believe much compulsion was necessary in Tom’s case; Tom would have made himself at home anywhere. Mr. Speede was much interested in the story of their trip, and especially in the adventure with Captain Sauder and Spencer Floyd.

“Well,” he said, “it’s too bad the captain got him again, for that’s just what happened, I guess, but you boys did all you could and I wouldn’t have had you do any less.”

“I suppose the poor kid’s halfway up North by this time,” observed Bob.

“And getting his lickings regular,” added Nelson.

“Maybe not, though,” said Tom hopefully. “Maybe he found another chance to run away and made a go of it.”

“Well, let’s hope so,” said Mr. Speede. “Now, how do you boys feel about a visit to one of the roof gardens? It’s late, but I guess we can see something of the show. At least we can keep cool.”

What they said was quite flattering to their host and to roof gardens. Bedtime came very late that night and breakfast time very late the next morning. It was an insufferably hot day in the city and that fact made them less regretful over leaving the comforts of Dan’s home. But the Speedes were busy getting ready to go to the country and even Tom felt that their presence wasn’t exactly necessary to Mrs. Speede’s happiness. Besides, their cruise was nearing its end, since the last letter that Nelson had received from his father made it plain that the Vagabond was expected back at Boston in a few days. So the Four said good-by at eleven and returned to the launch. They were to head for Boston, but as they had four or five days in which to get there, they proposed to stop once or twice along the Long Island shore on the way. But first it was necessary to put in gasoline, and to that end they dropped down the river to a wharf near the Brooklyn Bridge where that necessity was sold.

The fogs which made that summer well remembered along the coast had not yet taken their departure, and on the river distant objects were veiled in gray haze. So the Vagabond made the trip very cautiously, keeping a sharp watch for ferry boats, which, as every experienced launch knows, are blundering, awkward things which would just as lief run you down as not. But the wharf was made without misadventure and the Vagabond snuggled up to its side under the counter of a small schooner. While Nelson and Dan went ashore to order the gasoline Bob and Tom busied themselves cleaning up about the deck. It was while engaged at this task that Tom heard voices almost overhead. One of the voices sounded familiar in a dim sort of way and he began to wonder who was talking. From where he was he could not see the persons, for they were on the deck of the schooner and hidden by her rail. But presently Tom climbed to the cabin roof and craned his head. The next moment he was down again and out of sight in the cockpit. He had glimpsed only the heads and shoulders of two men. One was a well-dressed man, evidently a landsman, and Tom had never seen him before. But the other, and Tom had needed but the briefest glance to satisfy himself of the fact, was Captain Sauder!