"Up with your helm there, Noddy! Luff her up or you'll have the Curlew on the rocks!" "That's right, luff!" cried Billy Raynor, adding his voice to Jack Ready's command. "That's what I luff to do," grinned the red-headed, former Bowery waif, Noddy Nipper, as, with a dexterous motion, he jerked over the tiller of the fine, speedy sloop in which the boys were enjoying a sail on Alexandria Bay, above the Thousand Islands. The mainsail and jib shivered, and the Curlew spun round like a top just as it seemed inevitable that she must end her career on some jagged rocks that had suddenly loomed up ahead. "Neatly done, Noddy," applauded Jack. "We'll forgive you even that awful pun for that skillful bit of boat-handling." The freckled lad grinned in appreciation of the compliment paid him by the Wireless Boy. "Much obliged," he said. "Of course I haven't got sailing down as fine as you yet. How far do you reckon we are from home?" "From the Pine Island hotel, you mean?" rejoined Billy Raynor. "Oh, not more than ten miles." "Just about that," chimed in Jack. "If this wind holds we'll be home in time for supper." "Supper!" exclaimed Bill; "I could eat an octogenarian doughnut, I'm so hungry."
