“We can’t wait for them to get entirely dry,” said Frank. “We’ll put them on just as they are. Nobody ever gets cold around Lake Tahoe at this time of year.”
Harry did not object, but the garments were just wet enough so it was not an easy thing to get into them. This, however, was done, after a severe struggle and a small amount of startling and highly picturesque language from Rattleton.
“Woo!” said Harry. “If we had a fine road, we could get on our bikes and send them spinning at such speed that the breeze would soon dry us; but now—how do you propose to get over across this part of the lake, anyhow?”
“Well,” said Frank, “you heard me speak of Big Gabe?”
“Of course.”
“His cabin was not far from here.”
“What of that?”
“He owned a sailboat.”
“Wheejiz—no, jeewhiz! that’s the stuff! That’s what we want!”
“I rather thought so. With the aid of a sailboat we can get across the lake easily.”