hat is done, perhaps something else will turn
up, but we may as well tackle it at once."

It was fully dark before the difficulty was remedied by a careful
readjustment of the carburettor. Repeated tests were made, and everything
found to be right.

"At last!" said Alvin, with a sigh of relief. "And now we are ready to go
home. But where is Mike?"

CHAPTER X

AT BEARTOWN

Alvin Landon had been toiling so long, often in a stooping posture, that
he was tired. He sat down on one of the seats and his chum placed himself
opposite.

"I'm mighty glad," said the Captain, "for a fellow can't do much of this
in the dark, and I was bothered a good deal as it was."

"It strikes me that you will be running into danger by going down the
river to-night."

"How?"

"There is no moon until late. Suppose the launch should break down when
we were well out in Sheepscot Bay, wouldn't we be in a fix?"

"Yes, but I hope she is through breaking down for some time to come."

"So do I, but why take the risk, when there's no necessity for it?"

"We aren't fixed to sleep on board, though we could do it in a pinch, for
the weather is mild."

"Let's go up to this village or town near by. I am sure we shall get
accommodations for the night. Truth to tell, Alvin, I'm as hungry as I
was at dinner to-day in Wiscasset."

"The plan is a good one, though I don't like to leave the boat by itself
till morning. You know what happened the other night."

"That won't occur again in a thousand years. Put the flags and other
stuff in the cockpit, lock the engine cover, take the switch plug with
you, and the boat will be as safe as if she had a regiment of men on
guard."

"Mike ought to have been back before this," said the Captain, with a
touch of impatience. "Unless he has a good excuse I shall demote him, by
making you first mate."

"It is a dazzling promise you hold before me, but it won't be fair to
condemn Mike unheard. Give him a chance."

After some hesitation, Alvin acted upon the advice of his comrade. The
launch was made as secure as possible, and they sprang ashore, where the
gloom among the trees reminded them of that other tramp after taking
supper with Uncle Ben Trotwood. There was no reason for going astray and
they followed a direct course until they reached the roadway between the
wharf and the village of Beartown, alongside the main road running the
length of the island of Westport.

The moon had not yet risen; in