Repairs kept them there two days, and then, having acquired a new anchor
for the _Follow Me_ and left the extra dingey in safe storage, the
Adventure Club set forth once more in the early hours of a drizzly
morning.
They passed the Isles of Shoals before nine and in the middle of the
forenoon Steve pointed through the haze to where an indistinct blot
against the sky line proclaimed Boon Island. After that the cruisers
kept well toward shore, for, although the drizzle had stopped, the
navigators feared that a fog might take its place, and that one
experience in Vineyard Sound had been sufficient to last them for the
balance of the cruise. Off Cape Porpoise the boats found rough seas and
the crew of the _Follow Me_ were secretly delighted to observe that the
smaller craft made much easier going. The _Adventurer_ seemed to be
having a thoroughly good time, for she kicked up her heels and waved her
nose and fairly rolled in merriment as the seas came sliding under her
quarter. The bridge deck was a damp place until both side curtains were
lowered and laced to the rails and stanchions. Poor Joe stood it as long
as he could, getting paler and paler and sitting, hands in pockets,
gazing fixedly at the brass kickplate at the top of the forward
companion way, about the only thing in his range of vision that was
fairly steady, and at intervals lurching below with an assumption of
carelessness that deceived nobody, to dose himself with his sea-sickness
remedy.
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