man, as soon as he came near. "Anybody hurt?"
"Our boat is hurt," answered Tom dryly.
"Much of a hole?"
"Big enough to put us on the bottom."
"So I see. Want me to take you ashore?"
"Yes," put in Dick, "if you will be kind enough to do it."
"Certainly; always willing to aid anybody in distress. That other craft run you down in short order, didn't she?"
"Did you see it?" burst out Sam eagerly.
"To be sure I did."
"Then you know it was her fault."
"I do. She had no right to follow you up as she did."
"I'm glad you saw the mix-up, Mr.——"
"Martin Harris is my name. I'm an old boatman around here—keep boats to hire, and the like. And who is this I'm to take ashore?"
"My name is Sam Rover. These are my two brothers, Dick and Tom."
"Do you know who it was ran into you?"
"It was the Falcon, a yacht owned by a Mr. Fenwick. His son and a man he called Bill Goss were aboard."
At this Martin Harris drew down his mouth. "A bad set, those. I know 'em well."
