After that it was only a matter of time.  Inch by inch the cruiser dragged her keel along the sand, each minute floating a little freer and each minute putting her deck more level as the stern found the deep water.  And, perhaps a half-hour from the time they had started, they had the boat riding clear and slowly going astern to take up the cable.  It was out of the question to get the rope free of the rock and so they had to cut it, and, having done so, they swung cautiously around in a wide circle and headed toward the cheerful white beam of a lighthouse that beckoned from the shore.

They had to keep the pump going, for a leak they had not suspected developed forward, but that was a small matter and they were so glad to get out of the adventure with nothing worse than a few sprung planks, some bent stanchions and the loss of the side curtains that they would willingly have pumped by hand.  Half an hour later, after a slow and careful passage from island to mainland, with the searchlight picking out her path, the Adventurer dropped anchor in a narrow harbour.

They stayed there only overnight, for in the morning they found that there was no prospect of getting repairs made there, and so, with the bilge pump sucking merrily, they ran ten miles further down the coast and before dinner time saw the Adventurer on a cradle and hauled high and dry from the water.  The damage to the hull, while nowhere severe, was more general than they had thought, and the man who was to do the repairs decreed a week’s stay.  After discussing the situation it was decided that all save Steve and Phil were to proceed to Camden by rail and wait there for the Adventurer.  Steve was to remain to superintend the repairs and painting—­the cruiser stood in need of paint by then—­and Phil volunteered to keep him company and help take the boat on when it was ready.

In the meanwhile, after a day of uncertainty, the Follow Me was located by telegraph at Jonesport.  “All well.  Sailing for Camden tomorrow.  Meet you there” was the reply from Harry Corwin.  Steve and Phil, watching seaward from the deck of the Adventurer, sitting high up on a marine railway, thought that they made out the Follow Me about ten o’clock the next morning, but couldn’t be sure.  The two boys, captain and first mate, lived aboard and took their meals wherever they could get them.  They were there just six days and had a very happy if unexciting time.  Several absurd epistles reached them from Camden, all of which indicated that the other members of the Adventure Club were enjoying themselves hugely.  At last, shining with new paint and polished brass and refurnished with new curtains, the Adventurer slid down the railway again, floated out from the cradle and pointed her nose toward Penobscot Bay.  In the middle of a bright Friday afternoon she dropped anchor alongside her companion craft, Phil doing wild and ecstatic things with the whistle and eliciting no response from