ur side. You've got to hop more or less."

Miss Rutherford, with the loaf of bread, the peaches and the peppermint
creams in her hand, ran down to the boat. Frank and Priscilla followed
her. Jimmy had put the anchor on board and was holding the _Tortoise_
with her bow against the shingle.

"Take me, too," said Miss Rutherford. "I love chasing spies more than
anything else in the world."

"All right," said Priscilla. "Bound in and get down to the stern. Now,
Frank, you're next. Oh, do go on. Jimmy, give him a lift from behind.
I'll steer this time."

She hauled on the foresail halyard, got the sail up and made the rope
fast. Then she sprang to the stern, squeezed past Miss Rutherford and
took the tiller.

"Shove her off, Jimmy, wade in a bit and push her head round. I'll go
off on the starboard tack and not have to jibe. Oh, Miss Rutherford,
don't, please don't sit on the main sheet."

The business of getting a boat, which is lying head to wind to pay off
and sail away, is comparatively simple. The fact that the shore lies
a few yards to windward does not complicate the matter much. The main
sheet must be allowed to run out so that the sail does not draw at
first. The foresail, its sheet being hauled down, works the boat's head
round. Unfortunately for Priscilla, her main sheet would not run
out Miss Rutherford made frantic efforts not to sit on it, but only
succeeded in involving herself in a serious tangle. Jimmy Kinsella
pushed the boat's head round. Both sails filled with wind. Priscilla
held the tiller across the boat without effect The _Tortoise_ heeled
over, and with a graceful swerve sailed up to the shore again.

"Oh bother!" said Priscilla, "shove her off again, Jimmy. Wade in with
her and push her head right round. Thank goodness I have the main sheet
clear now."

This time the _Tortoise_ swung round and headed for the entrance of the
bay.

"Jimmy," shouted Miss Rutherford, "there's some soup in the pot. Go and
eat it Afterwards you'd better come on in your boat and see what happens
to us."

"There's no necessity for any excitement," said Priscilla. "Let
everybody keep quite calm. We are bound to catch them."

The _Tortoise_ swung round the rocks at the mouth of the bay. Flanagan's
old boat was seen a quarter of a mile ahead, running towards a passage
which seemed absolutely blocked with rocks. The _Tortoise_ began to
overhaul her rapidly.

"I almost wish," said Miss Rutherford, "that you'd all