They sat in one of the boats that drifted beside the boathouse float, Carson dabbling his fingers in the water.
"It is a lazy spot," he murmured. "I should think Merriwell's boys would get the tired feeling."
"Oh, some of them do," smiled Hodge; "but Frank won't let them loll around long enough for it to become chronic. He keeps them up and doing."
After they had been there nearly an hour, Bart felt for his watch and found he had left it at the boathouse.
"What time is it, Carson?" he asked.
The young Westerner drew forth a hunting-case watch and opened it.
"Nearly three," he said. Then he sat staring at the watch.
But Bart observed it was not the face of the watch at which his companion was gazing with a dreamy, far-away look in his eyes. Leaning forward a bit, Hodge discovered that on the reverse side of the open front case there was a pictured face—that of a girl.
Finally, with a faint sigh, Carson closed the watch and slipped it into his pocket.
"You and Frank are very fortunate, very happy, Bart," he said. And again began dabbling in the water with his fingers.