"My friend is afraid he'll get seasick," observed Clancy, with a wink.
"You can't get seasick in one o' my boats any more'n you could on land," averred the runner. "We jest go out around by the Sugarloaf–we're close inshore all the time."
"It's makin' me feel faint just to talk about it," said Hill. "Come on, Clancy!"
He caught the motor wizard's arm and tried to drag him off. Clancy, however, held back.
"I've heard a lot about these glass-bottom boats," said he, "and I'll have to take a trip in one. If you don't want to go, Hiram, you can sit on the dock and wait till I come back."
"No, you don't!" growled Hiram. "You and me don't get separated this trip, if I can help it. If you're going, Clancy, I'll go, too, even if it kills me."
"You won't be the least mite sick, friend," the runner insisted. "If you are, I'll give up your fare."
"That won't be a patchin' to what I'll give up–if you have to give up my fare," commented Hill. "I only hope I don't step so hard on the glass-bottom that I go through."
"You can't do that," the man laughed. "This way, gents."
He led them out on a pier and down a flight of steps to a float alongside of which a boat was moored. The boat was a flat-bottom affair, rigged with a canopy top, and having seats along the sides.