ge could
turn round to look it was gone again.

"I shall have the anchor up directly, lads. Now I tell you what will
be the best thing for you if the wind holds, as I expect it will. We
shall be at Sheerness in little over an hour--that will make it four
o'clock," he added, consulting his watch, "and the young flood will be
coming up soon afterwards, and I shall go up with the first of it to
Rochester. We shall get there maybe somewhere about seven o'clock. Now
the best thing I can do for you is to tow that ere boat up to
Rochester with me, and you can get a train there that will take you up
to town in goodish time."

"You are very kind," George said; "but what are we to do about the
boat?"

"I shall be going back to-morrow night, or more likely next morning,
and I will take her along and hand her over to her rightful owner at
Gravesend."

"James Kitson."

"Yes, I know him."

"But how about paying for it?" George said. "I am afraid he will
expect a great deal of money, for it has been away all the time, and
we have only got six shillings between us."

"You will want that to get up to town. Never mind about the boat. I
will put that square for you. I will tell Kitson as how you have been
shipwrecked, and he will think himself precious lucky in getting the
boat without being damaged. If I take the trouble to tow it up to
Rochester and back, he needn't grumble about getting no fare."

"I would rather pay something," George said; "though, you see, we
can't afford to pay much."

"Well, then, you send him a post-office order for five bob. I will
tell him you are going to send him that, and he will thank his stars
he has got so well out of it. If you had drifted out to sea, as he
expects you have by this time, and the boat didn't get smashed by a
steamer, you would likely enough have been taken off by one of them;
but the captain wouldn't have troubled himself about that old tub. I
looks upon Kitson as being in luck this job, so don't you worry about
him. There, the mist's driving off fast. We will up with the kedge."

The boys lent a hand at the windlass, and the anchor was soon hanging
from the bow. Then the brail of the mainsail was loosed, and the great
sail shaken out. The foresail was hoisted, and in a few minutes the
_Sarah and Jane_ was running before a brisk wind down Sea Reach.

The fog had rolled off now, and it was clear astern, though a thick
bank still hung over the river ahead, but this was rapidl