“It’s not Colonel Witham that I hate to face,” said George. “It’s father and mother. And the part they’ll feel worst about is that we did not stay and talk it over with them.”
“That’s so,” added Arthur. “What a lot of loons we were to come down here.”
“Shall I pull the centreboard up?” asked Henry Burns.
“You bet!” answered George Warren. “And we’ll take a leaf out of your book, Henry, and we won’t worry over what cannot be helped. We’re doing the right thing now, anyway, so there’s that much to feel good about.”
“There’s the Nancy Jane,” said Henry Burns.
Sure enough, Captain Sam’s pride was just turning the point, and Captain Sam, looking at the Spray coming down free and pointing its nose right at him, could hardly believe his eyes.
“It’s them, all right,” he assured the squire and the colonel. “They are coming back; tired of being runaways, I guess. Well, I thought they would get sick of it after a night or two away from home. They ain’t the kind of boys to enjoy running away.”
“Humph!” snorted the colonel.
“They’re a lot of young scamps and scapegraces,” snarled the squire.
Getting aground and spending a night in a bed that the colonel swore was stuffed with pig iron and seaweed had not improved their tempers.