Tuckerman turned to the three boys. “You approve of Sir Peter, don’t you?” he asked. “Even if he was a Tory?”
“I do,” said Ben promptly.
“I do,” said Tom.
“I think he was a corker, Professor,” said David. “I wish he’d been in my family.”
“And that’s the opinion of three boys of good old Barmouth families,” said Tuckerman with a pleased smile. “Well, boys, you’re to feel free to camp on Sir Peter’s island and use his house any time you want.”
“Now,” said Tom, “the next thing is to get the Professor to sail us around to the north shore, so we can get Mr. Hastings’ chest and bring it back to the house. We don’t want to leave any tempting bait for other prowlers to find.”
They went aboard the Argo, and Tuckerman took the helm. He was now a proficient skipper, and he gloried in it, as he gloried in all the new accomplishments he had acquired in the past month.
The chest was brought to Cotterell Hall, and again the Argo set sail. This time the three boys fished, while Tuckerman handled the boat. Flounders were biting in plenty, and soon they had enough for dinner. Ben pulled in his line. “We’d better leave some for another day,” he suggested.
“The wind’s just right for a southerly run,” said Tom.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” said Tuckerman, and brought the bow about.