“There she is,” he said, a note of pride in his; voice. “What do you think of her?”
“She’s a little beauty!” exclaimed Bob. “That’s a mighty nifty boat, Mr. Harvey.”
The others were equally unqualified in their praise, because the boat was a beautiful model, twenty-five feet long, with a snug little hunting cabin built up forward. It had a sturdy four cylinder engine, and everything looked to be in perfect order.
Mr. Harvey was evidently pleased by their appreciation of his pet, and pointed out some of the boat’s good qualities.
“She’s as staunch as they make ’em,” he said. “She’s a mighty seaworthy and dependable little craft. I think you’ll find plenty of gasoline in the tank, so you won’t have to worry about anything. I only wish I could go with you.”
“I wish you could,” said Bob. “But we’ll take the best of care of it, and we’ll be back before dark. We’ll not go far, anyway.”
“Well, enjoy yourselves,” said Brandon Harvey. “Can you get the engine started all right?”
For answer Bob gave the flywheel a twirl, and the engine started upon the first revolution. Joe took the wheel, while Bob acted as engineer. They backed carefully out of the boathouse, and then shifted into forward speed and proceeded slowly down the creek toward the bay, the engine throttled down until one could almost count the explosions, and yet running sweetly and steadily, without a miss.
“Say, this engine is a bird!” said Bob enthusiastically. “Just make out I wouldn’t like to own a boat like this!”
“Who wouldn’t?” asked Joe. “It’s about the neatest boat of its size I ever saw. I’ll bet it can go some if you want it to, too.”