“I don’t believe the telegraph office will be open until about eight o’clock,” said Bob. “And it isn’t likely that the _Scout_ would get back to Sanstable to-night in time for the captain to telegraph. So I guess we’re safe until, say, nine to-morrow morning. That being the case, and Dan having eaten the last thing on the table, I will adjourn to the deck.” “There’s some more coffee in the pot,” said Tom. “Couldn’t drink another drop, Tommy. I’ve had three cups already. Come on, Barry; you and I’ll go up and look at the moon.” “Isn’t any,” grunted Tom. “What!” exclaimed Bob. “No moon? How careless of the weather man! Then we’ll look at the nice little lantern at the bow, Barry.” “Oh, we’ll all go up,” said Dan. “I want a breath of air. How about the dishes, though?” “Let ’em go,” muttered Tom lazily. “Couldn’t I do them?” asked Spencer. “Why—do you mind?” asked Nelson. “I’d like to,” was the answer. “All right, then; go ahead. I guess Tommy will let you.” If there was any objection from Tom it was so slight that no one noticed it. Up in the cockpit the Four made themselves comfortable in the chairs and on the seat, while Barry curled up into a perfectly round bunch in Dan’s lap. The breeze still held from the southward and the night was quite warm, and, although Bob continued to complain at intervals over the absence of moonlight, the stars glittered in an almost cloudless sky and shed a wan radiance of their own. Somewhere in the darkness along the wharves a concertina was stumbling uncertainly through the latest success in rag-time melody. “Say, Bob,” said Dan, “you can do worse than that. Get your mandolin.” So Bob got it and the concertina was soon drowned out. Spencer crept up and silently snuggled himself in a corner of the cockpit. The lights in the town went out one by one and four bells struck in the cabin. “Hello!” exclaimed Nelson. “This won’t do, fellows, if we’re going to make an early rise. Come on, Dan, and help me fix up the berth for Spencer.” So the pipe berth in the engine room was pulled out and the other beds were levied on for a pillow and blankets, and half an hour later only Tom’s snores disturbed the silence. At half-past six the next morning the _Vagabond_ turned her bow toward the harbor entrance, passed the light at the end of Long Point and went westward for a half-mile along the shore. Then the tender was put over and Spencer, his own attire supplemented with an extra sweater of Bob’s, jumped into it. “If I had some line and a hook,” said Spencer gravely, “I could catch you some fish.” “That’s so!” said Nelson. “And I think there’s fishing tackle aboard somewhere. Wait a moment and I’ll see if I can’t find it.” “Yes,” remarked Dan casually, “and you might dig a few worms while you’re down there.” Nelson’s enthusiasm wilted and he joined in the laugh. “I forgot about bait,” he said. “I guess you couldn’t catch much without bait, eh, Spencer?”