boulder, while simultaneously holding himself ready to
rush for the trees at the first hint of trouble.
“Bugger me for a blue-eyed bandicoot,” he muttered
excitedly. “The lad’s gone an’ done it!”
Rocking gently in the waves just beyond the breaking
surf was a single-masted sloop. The stern faced shoreward
and on the name-plate everyone could clearly make out the
words JOHN B.
Jon-Tom let the last words of the song trail away. With it
went the Gneechees and the cloud of blue fog from which
the boat had emerged. It bobbed gently at anchor, awaiting
mem.
Roseroar put a proud paw on Jon-Tom’s shoulder. “Sugah,
bless man soul if it isn’t a spellsingah yo are. That’s a
fine-looking ship, for all that her lines are strange to me,
and ah’ve sailed many a craft.”
Jon-Tom continued to pluck fitfully at the duar as if
fearful that the sloop, solid as she looked, might disappear
at any moment in a rush of fog.
“Glad you think so. Me, I’ve never been on anything
il bigger than a surfboard in my life.”
13 “Not to worry. Ah don’t recognize the mannah of ship,
but if she sails, ah can handle her.”
“So can I.” Jalwar appeared behind them, “hi my
youth I spent much time sailing many kinds of ships.”
“See?” said Mudge, joining them on the beach. “The
old fur’s provin’ ‘imself valuable already.”
“Okay.” Jon-Tom nodded reluctantly. “Let’s see what
:^ she’s like on board.”
13 Mudge led them out to the boat, as at home in the water
]1 as he was on land. The others followed. By the time
•\ Jon-Tom reached the bottom of the boarding ladder, the