Then Harry waved
a hand and shouted, and the _Adventurer_, which had been going slowly
astern, taking up the slack of the cable, settled to her task. The big
rope tightened, throwing a spray of water into the sunlight along its
length, strained and creaked and the _Follow Me's_ propeller, reversed,
did its part. There was an anxious two minutes. Very grudgingly the
black cruiser's stern came around. Steve drew the _Adventurer's_
throttle down a couple of notches. The _Follow Me_ gave up her notion of
spending her declining years on the sands of Plum Island and slowly
backed away. A shout of delight arose from a dozen throats as, with the
water once more under her she bobbed sedately to an even keel and
followed the tug of the big hawser.
A quarter of an hour later the two boats continued their way up the
shore, the _Follow Me_ poorer by one eighty-pound anchor and richer by
one cedar dingey which the six boys aboard seriously suspected of having
been stolen. They ate dinner at half-past two, anchored on Joppa Flats,
the two crews once more assembled around and about the _Adventurer's_
hospitable board, and as they ate, very hungrily and quite happily, they
discussed the day's adventure.
The _Follow Me_ showed numerous signs of Steve's and Wink's
marksmanship, both outside and in, but there was no damage that nails
and hammer, paint and putty wouldn't repair.
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