I won't," growled Tom, sturdily.

"What! You won't tell me the truth?"

"I didn't say I wouldn't tell you the truth, Master Aleck. I mean I
won't say as I took her out and run her on a rock."

"But you did, sir."

"Tell yer I didn't, Master Aleck; she've been tied up ever since you
went away, and I've given her a thorough clean up."

"And started a plank or two by jumping down upon her with your wooden
legs."

"Nay, I wouldn't be such a fool, sir. Of course if I did I should go
through."

"I'd have forgiven you the accident," said Aleck, sternly, "but I can't
forgive the lie."

Tom stared up at his young employer, and took off his hat to give his
head a thorough good scratch, before saying, quietly:

"Say, Master Aleck, you says to me just now with a sign like as I'd been
having a drop o' rum. Well, I arn't; but, you'll scuse me, sir, have
you happened to call and see anyone as has given you some cake and wine
as was rather too strong for a hot sunny day like this?"

"No!" roared Aleck, in a thorough passion now. "Such insolence! Say
again that I threw a weight of paper and broke a hole through her."

"Well, sir, I see your shadder."

"You did not, for I've not been back till just now."

"Then it was somebody else's, sir."

"Somebody else's, sir!" cried Aleck, scornfully. "Own at once that you
had an accident with her."

"Me say that?" cried Tom, waxing angry in turn. "I won't. I'd do a
deal for you, Master Aleck, and if I'd stove in the boat I'd up and say
so; but I arn't a-going to tell an out-an'-out wunner like that to
screen you when you've had an accident. Why, if I did you'd never trust
me again."

"I never will trust you again, sir. But, there, what's to be done? How
am I to get back to the Den? Would a plug of oakum keep the water out?"

"Would a plug o' my grandmother keep the water out?" growled Tom,
scornfully. "Why, she couldn't keep it out if we set her in it. I jest
got one peep, and then the water hid it, but there's a hole pretty nigh
big enough for you to go through."

"My poor boat!" cried Aleck, in agony. "But, there, it's of no use to
cry after spilt milk. What's to be done?"

"Well, I've thought it out, sir, and seems to me that what's best to be
done is to make her fast between two big boats, run her up on to the
beach, get two or three of the fisher lads to turn her over, and then
see what I can do with a bit o' thin plank. Patch her up and pitch up
the