Fire Island Inlet was reached shortly before three and Steve took the
wheel again and ran the _Adventurer_ past Jack's Island, around the
curve of Short Beach and into the waters of the Great South Bay. There
was still a six-mile run to their anchorage, however, and it was nearly
four when the cruiser at last crept in among the clustered craft off Bay
Shore and dropped her anchor. A hundred yards away a cluster of boys on
the deck of a sturdy cabin-cruiser swung their caps and sent a hail
across. Steve seized the megaphone from its rack and answered.
"_Follow Me_, ahoy!" he shouted.
"Ahoy yourself!" was the ribald reply. "We're coming over!"
The crew of the _Follow Me_ tumbled into a tiny dingey, cast off and
were lost to sight beyond the intervening craft. Then they reappeared,
their small boat so deep that the water almost spilled over the sides,
Wink Wheeler struggling with a pair of ludicrously short oars and the
other five laughingly urging him on.
"Throw a couple of fenders over, Han," instructed Steve, "and stand by
with your boat-hook."
The _Follow Me's_ tender crept alongside amidst noisy greetings, Perry
performing excruciatingly on the whistle until pulled away, and in
another moment the visitors were aboard.
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