IN WHICH THE FIREFLY DISAPPEARS
"That is so," said Tempest. "Fortunately we have been able to hire a small sailing-boat that will do for our purpose."
Mr. Flagg did not speak for a moment.
"All right, my lads," he said at last. "You know your own affairs best. But don't get any crazy notion into your heads that I'm wanting to turn you out. Under my roof you can stop as long as you have a mind to, see?"
Mr. Flagg was so amiable about the matter, and treated his guests with such marked affability during the rest of the evening that Tempest almost found it in his heart to relent. Only the fact that the trim little Nautilus was lying snugly at anchor caused him to refrain. After an early breakfast next morning Dave and his companion started out for the north shore to take possession of their boat and bid its owner a more or less fond farewell.
"Don't bother me!" Cresswell snapped. "I want nothing from you but ten dollars a day.
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