Come sundown, we fix some emergency clothes out of a blanket because the pajamas Jode is wearing belong to Mr. Vachti and would be recognized. The two of us and the pooch go barging over to Mr. Vachti's house. It is just about twilight when we get there. The yacht has been back to the mainland again and has brought out some dogs to track Jode down by smell. My pooch goes over amiable to make friends. There is a clamorous welcome from the other dogs. Very clamorous. Jode steams. Then I explain to a guy that we two was out sailing; we landed, and somebody stole our boat and can they send word so our folks can come for us. It sounds like very respectable family stuff. There is a strange, profane silence. Nobody suspects it is Jode with me, of course. Mr. Vachti looks us over, suppressing all the cusswords ever known to man. He says to Jode, "Do you usual wear a blanket?" Jode says indignant, "I was sunbathing." Mr. Vachti says bitter, "I can prob'ly find some sailor clothes. I will send you back to the mainland." He would like to strangle both of us. He figures that the Jode he is after stole the boat and beat it to the mainland. He can't do anything to us because, he figures again, Jode will be working out a list including kidnapping, coercion, threats, and other illegal acts, and a police launch may arrive at any moment. He can't even dump the Prof overboard because of his belief that Jode is on shore preparing a lawsuit. Actual, Jode is right there beside me, boiling mad and wanting enthusiastic to murder me, only not daring to show it. * * * * * It is a beautiful mess. Mr. Vachti has not got a scientific mind, so he can't make even a wild guess at what has happened. He don't believe in the elixir anyhow, and of course he wouldn't know that I had set out to make it. So never in a million years will he hit on the facts. Jode goes inside the house and puts on the sailor pants and a sweater, and leaves the blanket as a memento. They put us on the yacht and take us back to the mainland, Jode holding aloof because of the likelihood of committing mayhem if I come in arm's reach. I go look at the yacht's engines. I observe that the Prof is on board, white as a sheet and trembling. He does not really believe he is reprieved. But he is. We get to the dock and go ashore. Jode ain't even polite enough to say "Thanks" for our ride. We march away from the dock. A dog comes up, looking cordial; our pooch hasty gets on friendly terms and the two of them disappear up a side street. I don't care. I have Jode wait for me in a dark place, and I get some of my clothes outa the hotel; then I get the car, and we go get the suitcase outa the airport terminal. We salvage the baggage-check outa Jode's pants-pocket, and beat it the hell away from there.