"What's ended?" asked the boat builder. "Your boat?"

"Almost ended," roared Tom. "We-want you-to-fix-up-our-boat," he
yelled.

"Oh, all right. Where is she?"

Dick pointed with his finger, and at once the boat builder
understood. "There's a hole in her side," bawled the boy. "We
want it patched up."

"All right; I can do that."

"Can we have her by tomorrow?"

"How's that?" And Dan Haskett placed his hand to his ear.

"Can-we-have-her-by-tomorrow?" yelled Dick.

"I guess so. I'll have to see how badly she is damaged first."

Haskett got out a small boat of his own and, taking Dick with
him, rowed over to the wreck. He pronounced the injury small and
said the boys could have their boat by noon the next day. The
charges would be twelve or fifteen dollars.

"We'll be getting off cheaper than I thought," said Tom, on
Dick's return. "Ought to come out of Mumps' pocket."