"Drink it, you silly goat! Who's going to drink it? I'm going to rub it on the places!"
"Oh, I see! That's different. I'll have a look, Perry." Cas was visibly relieved as he scrambled down to the cabin. Perry dropped into the dingey again and set the milk-can upright, and then, after another minute, Cas returned empty-handed. "I'm sorry," he said, "but we haven't a bit. Would peroxide do?"
"I don't know," answered Perry doubtfully. "Maybe. Hand it here and I'll give it a chance. Say," he continued as he laved his wrists, "did your crowd leave this boat on the beach?"
"I suppose so. That's where you found it, wasn't it! You'd better hustle back with it, too, for they said they'd be back about eleven. They went to Vineyard Haven."
"It's all well enough to say hustle back with it," replied Perry morosely, "but where's your pesky beach?"
"Why, over there," said Cas, pointing. "The way you came."
"I came forty-eleven different directions," answered Perry. "All right, though. I'll try it. But I'm likely to be paddling around all day and night. Got anything to eat on board?" Cas found some cookies and these, with a glass of water, raised Perry's spirits. "Farewell," he said feelingly, as he shoved off again. "I die for my country."
"Did you fellows have any trouble finding this place yesterday?" asked Cas as the departing guest dropped the oars in the locks.
"Trouble?" Perry looked blank. "What sort of trouble?"
"Why, the fog, you know. We had an awful time finding the harbour."