Yet even with this precaution the shock was tremendous. But nothing gave way, and slowly but surely the Sprite took up her burden.
For a few moments the two boats seemed to stand stationary, the power of the Sprite just counterbalancing the push of wind and wave against both boats; then, a little later, the Sprite began to move, gathering headway by slow degrees.
Anything like speed was out of the question, but the Sprite, without missing a shot, plowed her way like a tugboat through the churning waters, and brought herself and her tow safely along the yacht club's pier.
Matt and McGlory, busy making the Sprite fast, caught a glimpse of George rushing across the pier to meet his father.
"George!" shouted the elder man.
"Dad!" cried George.
And they came together, gripping each other's hands. With arms locked they walked the length of the pier and vanished inside the yacht club's headquarters.
"Reconciliation?" queried McGlory. "If it isn't, I don't know the brand. Oh, I reckon Uncle Dan will do the right thing by George. That cold blast of mine will have to be permanently retired. Matt, give us your paw! This is a grand day for the Lorry tribe!"
"No doubt about that, Joe," answered Matt, with feeling, as he and McGlory shook hands.
Half an hour later Matt went into the yacht club to telephone police headquarters about his stolen money. He had only a very faint hope of ever seeing the money again, but he felt it his duty to do everything possible to recover it.