Hal made a clutch at the throttle with one hand and pulled back the lever with the other just in time. Jack, scampering across the little decking forward, tried to fend the boat off the bank with his feet, but the momentum buried her nose a foot deep in the mud and sand.
“Reverse her slowly, Hal!” he called. Hal, completely flustered by this time, threw the lever forward again. The propeller churned wildly and the Corsair dug further into the bank.
“Don’t cal’ate,” observed Bill Glass mildly from the wharf, “you can go much further in that direction, mates.”
Hal finally got the lever at reverse and, after a moment’s struggle, the Corsair backed out into the pool. Jack spun the wheel, Bee fended the launch away from the wharf and at last she was straightened out. “All right,” called Jack. “Let her go!”
The launch poked her nose down-stream and Bill Glass waved politely with a big brown hand. “Come again, mates,” he rumbled, “come again. If I ain’t here, just make yourselves to home!”
CHAPTER XVIII
Bee Finds A New Clue
For a quarter of a mile there was little conversation aboard the Corsair. Hal, very red in the face, slathered oil right and left, a certain sign nowadays of mental unrest, while Jack piloted the launch and Bee, able seaman that he was, sat in the waist, hands in pockets, and whistled softly. At last, however, Hal burst forth.
“That wasn’t my boat-hook,” he declared angrily, “but he’s got mine, all right, the old robber!”