didn't seem such bad dope, either. Vee sides with Mabel, and
while Payne don't like the idea he gives in. We seem to have landed
somewhere. So we carts the baskets and things ashore, finds a flat
place up on the rocks, and then the three of us tackles the job of
hoistin' Mabel onto dry land. And it was some enterprise, believe me!

"Goodness!" pants Mabel, after we'd got her planted safe. "I don't
know how I'm ever going to get back."

We didn't, either; but after we'd spread out five kinds of sandwiches
within her reach, poured hot coffee out of the patent bottles, opened
the sardines and pickles, set out the cake and doughnuts, Mabel ceases
to worry.

Payne don't, though. He swallows one sandwich, and then goes back to
inspect the boat. He announces that the tide is comin' in and she
ought to float soon; also that when she does he wants to start back.

"Now, Payne!" protests Mabel. "Just when I'm comfortable!"

"And there isn't any hurry, is there?" asks Vee.

I wa'n't so stuck on buttin' around in the fog myself; so when he asks
me to go down and see if the launch is afloat yet, and I finds that she
can be pushed off easy, I don't hurry about tellin' him so. Instead I
climbs aboard and develops an idea. You see, when I was out with Eb
Westcott in his lobster boat the day before I'd noticed him stop the
engine just by jerkin' a little wire off the spark plug. Here was a
whole bunch of wires, though. Wouldn't do to unhitch 'em all. But
along the inside of the boat is a little box affair that they all lead
into, with one big wire leadin' out. Looked kind of businesslike, that
one did. I unhitches it gentle and drapes it over a nearby screwhead.
Then I strolls back and reports that she's afloat.

"Good!" says Payne. "I'll just start the engine and be tuning her up
while the girls finish luncheon."

Well, maybe you can guess. I could hear him windin' away at the
crankin' wheel, windin' and windin', and then stoppin' to cuss a little
under his breath.

"What's the matter?" sings out Mabel.

She was one of the kind that's strong on foolish questions.

"How the blazes should I know?" raps back young Hollister. "I can't
start the blasted thing."

"Never mind," says Mabel cheerful. "We haven't finished the sandwiches
yet."

Next time I takes a peek Payne has his tool kit spread out and is busy
takin' things apart. He's getting' himself all smeared up with grease
and oil too. Pity; for he'd