“How much would it cost?” asked McConnell.
Allan figured the thing out on the back of a platebox. “If we carry part of our lunch with us it ought to cost about seventy cents for each of us.”
“And we could get some great things down there,” commented McConnell. “We could shoot from the Ferris wheel.”
“Yes, and we could shoot the chutes.”
McConnell chuckled. “I’d like to go.”
Owen liked the idea. “I’ve been wanting to go down all summer. And what do you say to this? There is a freight-boat that stops at Howlett’s Dock every morning about seven and comes back every night. I know one of the men on it, and I think we could get him to take us down to Twenty-something Street and back. That would only leave us the Coney Island boat to pay for.”
“Good!” cried Allan.
Owen’s plan was carried out. Wednesday morning opened cloudy, and the boys were not in very high spirits when they reached the rendezvous at Howlett’s Dock.
“Is there any use going when it’s so cloudy?” asked Owen.
McConnell was certain it would clear.