As to the future possession of her, they would trust to the squire to fight a lawsuit, if necessary, to retain her. It was a lonely place, down there in the Thoroughfare, and there could be no outside witnesses.
Therefore, before the sun was up, they had rowed ashore and begun work upon the yacht. They began differently, however, than the boys had done. They realized that the first thing for their purpose was to get the Surprise afloat. Once in possession of the yacht, afloat and towed back to harbour, whoever should claim it then might have trouble in making their claim good.
John Hart was something of a shipwright in a small way, and they had brought carpenter’s and calking tools along.
They, in turn, busily engaged at their work, were taken by surprise all of a sudden at the appearance of Joe Hinman and his crew, tearing down upon them, half-dressed, and their eyes wide with amazement and indignation.
“Here, that’s our boat,” cried Joe, rushing up to them, panting for breath. “You’ve got no right to touch it. We raised it.”
“‘HERE, THAT’S OUR BOAT,’ CRIED JOE, ‘YOU’VE GOT NO RIGHT TO TOUCH IT.’”
John Hart, with sleeves rolled up, displaying a pair of brawny arms, looked at the crew sneeringly. They were certainly not formidable as against himself and his two comrades, to say nothing of young Harry Brackett.
“You raised it!” he exclaimed, roughly. “That’s a likely story. What did you raise her with—your hands? You’re a fine wrecking-crew. Why, we had this boat out on shore two days ago. What are you interfering with us for?”
“Now, see here,” said Joe Hinman, “that won’t work, so you better not try it. There are too many on our side.” And he narrated, rapidly, the history of the raising of the Surprise by the Warrens and Henry Burns and Harvey and himself and crew.