“Oh, what a pun!” cried Hal. “Push him overboard, Jack!”
But Jack, viewing Bee’s clothes, had mercy. “You are in a mess, aren’t you?” he asked solicitously. “The crushed oysters, as you call them, will brush off, but that green stain will stick like anything. I’m awfully sorry, Mansfield.”
Bee viewed the front of his attire philosophically. “Well, anyway,” he said, “I won’t have to go to church today, will I? There’s nothing like looking on the bright side of misfortune. Throw us the line, Hal, and we’ll pull you in.”
“You run away and play,” replied Hal, working vigorously with an oar and making little headway. “The line won’t reach half-way there.”
“Well, keep on rowing, old chap. Only be sure and have the launch here by the time I want to go back. Come on, Herrick, let’s go ashore.”
“If you’d kept hold of the line when you had it,” muttered Hal.
“Get up in the bow,” Jack advised. “Then you can put your oar over either side.”
Following that direction, Hal made better progress and at last the launch was tied up to the spiling and Hal had clambered up beside the others. Then they filed ashore and walked up to the house. Bee said he “cal’ated” he wouldn’t go inside as he wasn’t very presentable and so they sat down on the steps.
“How does she run?” asked Jack.