“It isn’t altogether luck,” he said. “I guess God had a good deal to do with it.”
[CHAPTER XXI]
WHEREIN TOM LOSES HIS TOOTHBRUSH AND DAN TELLS A STORY
The next day, which was Saturday, the seventeenth, dawned clear and cold. It was the first touch of real autumn weather they had had, and when they hurried downstairs the fire in the living room, which had been freshly built, felt very good. Will came down with them. He declared himself “all right,” but he was so uncommunicative and so ill at ease that it was difficult to find out much about him. Mr. Cozzens tried his best to draw him out at breakfast, but his embarrassment was so painful that it seemed kindness to let him alone. After breakfast they went out to the point to look after the sloop, taking the dory with them. The wind was in the north, and bit fingers and noses as it swept across the blue, white-capped bay. They found the sloop where they had left her. The tide was high, and a good sea was still running, but things looked vastly different from what they had the afternoon before. This morning it was hard to believe that there were such things as storms.
Mr. Cozzens and Nelson set out in the dory. They found the sloop two-thirds full of water, and set about pumping her out. Will had told them that they would find a pump in the locker, and they soon had it at work. After they had the water pretty well out they found that several of the planks had sprung, and Mr. Cozzens advised hauling her out on the beach and having her repaired. So they pulled the anchor in, and Nelson rowed back to the beach for Dan and Bob. The latter and Mr. Cozzens took a line from the sloop’s bow and fixed it to the stern of the dory. Then they got into the latter, and tried to pull the sloop off the sand bar, while Dan and Nelson stood in the stern in order to raise the forward part. It was hard work, but at the end of twenty minutes the sloop was afloat again, and half an hour later she was lying on her side well out of water, thanks to the efforts of Prince and all hands. There they left her, after securing her with a couple of cables, and it was decided that Will should return home by train to Greenport and ferry to Sag Harbor. They paid him five dollars, since, as Dan pointed out, they had really benefited by the misadventure, and Will, with muttered thanks and farewell, disappeared in the direction of the station.
A little while later the Four, too, took their departure, thanking Mr. and Mrs. Cozzens heartily for their kindness, and promising to come again to the red cottage if ever they had the opportunity. Mr. Cozzens walked with them as far as the neck, and pointed out their road to them.
“Good-by, boys,” he said. “I’m glad I had the pleasure of meeting you, and I hope it won’t be the last time. Come and see my school some time. Meanwhile, let me hear from you about your friend as soon as you can. Good-by and good luck!”
The nip in the air was conducive to brisk traveling, and when, at noon, they reached Jamesport they had eight miles to their credit. In the afternoon they did still better, and reached Fairhaven, twelve miles distant, tired and hungry and happy, at half-past six. They found letters awaiting them at the post office in the morning. Mr. Speede wrote that, since Dan was really in earnest, he would be glad to do anything in reason for Jerry, “even to the extent,” he wrote, “of becoming custodian and administrator of the Fund!” Tom’s father and Nelson’s also professed themselves eager to help, and Jerry’s life for the next two or three years seemed to be nicely arranged. If only they could find Jerry!