There was something very cheering and reassuring in the sight of the Betty riding easily at her anchor, as I made my way round the mouth of the creek. Tommy and Joyce were both on deck: the former in his shirt-sleeves, swabbing down his new paint with a wet mop. Directly he saw me he abandoned the job to Joyce, and with a wave of his hand proceeded to get out the dinghy. A minute later he was pulling for the shore.
"All serene?" he inquired calmly, as he ran the boat up to where I was standing.
"Yes," I said. "We needn't hurry; there's no one chasing me." Then pushing her off the mud I jumped in. "I'll tell you the news," I added, "when we get on board."
We headed off for the Betty, and as we came alongside and I handed up the painter to Joyce, I felt rather like the raven must have done when he returned to the Ark. As far as peace and security were concerned, my outside world seemed to be almost as unsatisfactory as his.
"How have you got on?" demanded Joyce eagerly.
I climbed up on to the deck.
"I've had quite an interesting time," I said. Then I paused and looked round the boat. "Is Mr. Gow back?" I inquired.
Tommy shook his head. "Not yet. I expect he's blueing some of that fiver in anticipation."
"Come and sit down, then," I said, "and I'll tell you all about it."
They both seated themselves beside me on the edge of the well, and in as few words as possible I let them have the full story of my adventures. At the first mention of Latimer's name Tommy indulged in a low whistle, but except for that non-committal comment they listened to me in silence.