In the event, it was nearly a fortnight before Jim once again crossed the cobbles and railway lines of Whitstable Harbour, and found himself looking down at a Trilby transformed by her refit, and gUttering in the autumn sun with new paint and varnish. Chubb was cutting the spun-yarn lashings off a coil of brand-new manila rop^e, and looked up as the footsteps halted. At once the Skipper read in Jim's face the exhausting strain of the long and searching inquiry; he saw that it was not a time for questions or conversation. Here was a young man who needed something to do.
"Oh, you're there, are you, mate?" he cried cheerfully. "Come on down and get that shore clobber off. You can help me reeve this new tops'l halyard. You're back home now, me lad."