"That's easy," explained Hardy. "I've got a friend there who owns an automobile. He'll lend it to me for love or money, or maybe both. We'll get to the island, if the tug don't break down, by one o'clock. It's an hour's or an hour and a half's run to Cape Peril. I'll put you up at Seagulls' Nest, my place there, till tomorrow, and then send you wherever you want to go."
"Rotten roads and a howlin' night," meditated the deputy.
"You can sleep on the tug and take a wink in the auto," promised the other. "I'll attend to the roads. Nash's car's special trick is climbing out of mud holes."
The deputy thought a while longer, figured on what he would save financially, consulted his wife in retirement, got her permission after some argument, and made himself ready to go.
Shortly after the three night travelers were aboard, the tug bravely started, ploughing the rolling waters on its way up the Sound. Hardy and the deputy had soon made themselves comfortable on benches and were sound asleep. Legs, however, had to contend for an hour with a queasy feeling closely related to seasickness.
