It must have been pretty nearly half-past four by the time I reached the pier-head. My friend with the hoarse voice and the blue jersey was still hanging around, looking rather thirsty and exhausted after his strenuous day's work of watching over the dinghy. I gave him half a crown for his trouble, and followed by his benediction pulled off for the _Betty_. The wind had gone round a bit to the south, and as the tide was still coming in I decided to sail up to the creek in preference to using the engine. The confounded throb of the latter always got on my nerves, and apart from that I felt that the mere fact of having to handle the sails would keep my mind lightly but healthily occupied. Unless I was mistaken, a little light healthy occupation was exactly what my mind needed. As occasionally happens on exceptionally fine days in late spring, the perfect clearness of the afternoon was gradually beginning to give place to a sort of fine haze. It was not thick enough, however, to bother me in any way, and under a jib and mainsail the _Betty_ swished along at such a satisfactory pace that I was in sight of Gravesend Reach before either the light or the tide had time to fail me. I thought I knew the entrance to the creek well enough by now to run her in under sail, though it was a job that required a certain amount of cautious handling. Anyhow I decided to risk it, and, heading for the shore, steered her up the narrow channel, which I had been careful to take the bearings of at low water. I was so engrossed in this feat of navigation that I took no notice of anything else, until a voice from the bank abruptly attracted my attention. I looked up with a start, nearly running myself aground, and there on the bank I saw a gesticulating figure, which I immediately recognized as that of Tommy. I shouted a greeting back, and swinging the _Betty_ round, brought up in almost the identical place where we had anchored on the previous night. Tommy, who had hurried down to the edge of the water, gave me a second hail. "Buck up, old son!" he called out. "There's something doing." A suggestion of haste from Tommy argued a crisis of such urgency that I didn't waste any time asking questions. I just threw over the anchor, and tumbling into the dinghy sculled ashore as quickly as I could. "Sorry I kept you waiting, Tommy," I said, as he jumped into the boat. "Been here long?" "About three hours," he returned. "I was beginning to wonder if you were dead." I shook my head. "I'm not fit to die yet," I replied. "What's the matter?" He looked at his watch. "Well, the chief matter is the time. Do you think I can get to Sheppey by half-past nine?" I paused in my rowing. "Sheppey!" I repeated. "Why damn it, Tommy, I've just come back from Sheppey." It was Tommy's turn to look surprised. "The devil you have!" he exclaimed. "What took you there?"