Part 3 (1/2)

”I certainly can and will, if I am called upon to do so.”

”Thank you,” said Jack. ”I mean to make them settle for the damage, even if I have to go to court to do it.”

”That's right. It was a bad bit of business. She followed you right up.

I'd be willing to swear to that in any tribunal in the land. I hope you bring them to justice. Who were the rascals?”

”A millionaire named Judson, who owns an island near here, and his son, who is a fearful sn.o.b.”

The boys saw a look of surprise flit across the naval officer's face.

But it was gone in an instant.

”Surely not Hiram Judson?” he demanded.

”The same man,” replied Jack. ”Why, do you know him, sir?”

”I--er--that is, I think we had better change the subject,” said Captain Simms with odd hesitation. Jack saw that there was something behind the sea officer's hesitancy, but of course he did not ask any more questions.

”I can give you a tow to the sh.o.r.e where there is a man who makes a business of repairing boats,” volunteered Captain Simms. ”But will your craft keep afloat that long?”

”I think so,” said Jack. ”We can all sit on one side and so raise the leak above water. But can you pull us off?”

”We shall soon see that,” was the rejoinder. ”It looks as if it would be an easy task. Throw me a line and I'll make it fast to my stern bitts.”

This was soon done, and then the little launch set to work with might and main to tug off the injured yacht.

”Hurray, she's moving!” cried Billy presently.

This was followed by a joyous shout from all the boys.

”She's off!”

They moved down the channel with the boys hanging over one side in order to keep the _Curlew_ heeled over at an angle that would a.s.sure safety from the leak. They landed at a rickety old dock with a big gasoline tank perched at one end of it. Attached to it was a crudely painted sign:

”Charles Hansen, Boats Built and Repaired.

All work Promptly Exicutid.”

Hansen himself came toddling down the wharf. He was an old man with a rheumatic walk and a stubbly, unshaven chin stained with tobacco juice.

A goodly sized ”chaw” bulged in his withered cheek.

”Can you repair our boat quickly?” asked Jack, pointing to the hole.

Old Hansen shot a jet of tobacco juice in the direction of the injury.

”Bust.i.tupconsiderable,” he remarked.

”What's that?” demanded Billy. ”Doesn't he talk English?” and he turned an inquiring glance at Captain Simms, who laughed.