"Never mind," I said. "You'll have lots of nice people to keep you company."
He took the painter from Jimmy, and jerked his head in the direction of the boat.
"Jump in," he commanded sternly. "I've got an appointment with a fellow ashore, but he'll jolly well have to wait. I'm going to get to the bottom of this, if it costs me my commission."
There was a masterly ring in his voice which woke up all my latent sense of discipline. I drew myself up in a mock salute, and stepped down obediently into the stern sheets.
"Look after the dinghy for me, Jimmy," I called out. "I'll come back for it this afternoon."
Tossing the painter ahead of him, Bobby followed me on board. He started the engine with a quick jerk of the handle, and then, coming aft, took possession of the wheel. The next moment we were backing slowly out from the jetty, and heading round towards the mouth of the creek.
"Now, my son," he remarked, "this is your picnic. You give the orders, and I'll carry 'em out."
"Take her straight across to the island," I said. "You'll find my private landing-stage exactly opposite."
He paused for a moment with his hand on the throttle. "You haven't gone mad by any chance, I suppose, Jack?" he enquired casually.
I shook my head. "It's quite all right," I said. "I'll explain everything when we've had some lunch."