"The stuff isn't iced, yet it's fairly cold," the bearded one explained.
"Well, gentlemen, here's to a pleasant evening!"
Hal, who was thirsty, took a long swallow of the sarsaparilla, finding the flavor excellent. Jack drank more slowly, though he enjoyed the beverage.
"If you don't mind," suggested Curtis, "I will light a cigar. And say, by the way, gentlemen, what if we take a little walk down to my beach? Before showing you the models I spoke of, I'd like to have your opinion of the lines of my sloop."
"We'll go down and take a look with great pleasure," Jack Benson agreed, rising. "And I'm glad, sir, that you're able to show us more courtesy than we were able to offer you to-night."
"Oh, that was all right," declared their host, smiling good-humoredly. "Rules are rules, and you have your owners to please. No hard feelings on that score, I assure you."
Curtis led the way through a dark yard down to a pier. Moored there lay a handsome white sloop, some forty-two feet in length—a boat of a good and seaworthy knockabout type.
"This is a sloop, all right," Jack agreed, cordially. "Rather different from the lumbering fishing craft hereabouts."
"Oh, hah, yum!" yawned Hal, at which Curtis shot a quick glance at him.
"Come on board," invited Curtis, stepping down to the deck of the craft.
"Let me show you what a comfortable cruising cabin I have."
"Hi, oh, yowl" yawned Hal, again. "Jack, I think I shall enjoy my rest to-night."