To that John Tuckerman agreed. “This is just what I hoped to find,” he said, “some young fellows with the spirit of adventure. You know the ropes, and I don’t. Let’s see; what’s your name?”
Tom told him. “Wouldn’t you like to come in and see my father?” he suggested.
“I must be getting back to the hotel,” said Tuckerman. “You tell him my name, and say I’m Mr. Cotterell’s nephew. You sign up to go, do you? And you’ll try to get your two messmates? I’ll see to the boat and grub and cooking outfit—and I think I can promise you a bit of adventure.”
“If Father says yes, I sign,” agreed Tom, smiling at the man’s air of business. “And the more adventure there is, the better I’ll like it, too. Things are sort of quiet here this summer.”
Tuckerman held out his hand. He had a formal manner about him that amused Tom greatly. “See you at Lowe’s Wharf at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”
“Right,” said Tom, shaking hands. “And I’ll have the other two fellows there with me. They’ve always wanted to have a look at that island.”
The tall, lank man turned, and shortly disappeared behind the big clump of lilac bushes at the corner of Wentworth Street. Tom, thoughtfully jingling a bunch of keys in his trouser pocket, chuckled as he considered the situation. In fifteen minutes this Mr. John Tuckerman, a total stranger, had persuaded him to camp out for a fortnight or so on Crusty Christopher’s island. Tom could well believe that Mr. Tuckerman needed some companions who were used to the water and campcraft; he looked as if he might be a Professor and more knowing about history and such things than about how to reef a sail or hook a flounder.
Still grinning at this unusual happening, Tom went into the house, where in the sitting-room his father was reading, his mother sewing, and his sister Milly trimming a new straw hat. “I’m going camping on Cotterell’s Island,” he declared. “It’s a sort of a secret, so you must all promise not to tell.”
Milly looked up quickly. “On Cotterell’s Island? If you step ashore there, somebody’ll pitch you off.”
“Oh no, they won’t. I’m going with the owner.”