“Yes,” said John.
“Can you read?”
“Yes.”
“Did you read it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I meant what I said in it. I told you to leave the houseboat alone, and here you come the very next morning. Once is quite enough. Just you lay to your oars and clear out. Fast. And don’t come here again.”
“But …” said John.
“And if you’ve got any more of those fireworks, the best thing you can do with them is to drop them in the lake. If you must let them off, let them off in a field.”
“But I haven’t,” said John.
“That was the last one, was it? Well, it did enough damage. How would you like someone to come and let off a firework in your boat and set fire to the sail or something? Look at the mess you made of my cabin roof.”
There was a large burnt patch on the top of the curved cabin roof. The houseboat man pointed to it indignantly.
“But I’ve never had any fireworks,” said John, “at least not since last November.”
“Oh, look here,” said the houseboat man, “that won’t do.”
“And I’ve never been near your boat before, never as near as I am now.”