They picked out a very good place to fire the powder, so far away from the scene of the picnic that no one would be likely to intrude on them.
“The boats are wanted very much just now,” said Will; “I wonder whether we can get one or not.”
Now, those boys knew that they were doing wrong, and the writer ventures to assert that they all cherished a secret hope that they would not succeed in carrying their little game.
But presently a bulky old gentleman (bulky is not used in contempt, but because it is well known that bulkiness and generosity are twin brothers), who owned a staunch little boat, told them to use his boat as much as they pleased. He did not suspect, however, that a party of dare-devil boys wanted it for their own exclusive use, but supposed that one or two of them purposed rowing indolent pleasure-seekers up and down the river. Had he guessed their nefarious designs, he would have moderated his generosity, and set out in quest of a peace-officer.
Thus put in possession, the four pulled stoutly for the island. They were in some doubt as to whether Steve would still be there, for not one dreamed that he had taken the matter so much to heart.
“Steve was a little uneasy when I left him,” said Will; “how do you suppose he feels about it now?”
“Oh!” said Charles, “he’s all right, I’ll wager. You may depend he hasn’t been moping over those fire-crackers all this time. No, he’s as lively as a baulky horse by this time; but our explosion will muddle his wits, all the same.”
“He’ll get his dander up when he finds it out,” Jim observed.
“I wonder if the boats are all gone, and he’s fast on the island,” Marmaduke speculated.