“Cheer up,” advised Jerry. “You’ll get indigestion if you eat with such a sour face, Ned. We’ll get there some time.”
“Yes, and find that my father and Bob’s have gone on with their trip and we have missed seeing them. Dad was going to bring me some dough, too. And I need it,” he added as he turned his pockets inside out. “Not a nickel left, and I want to get tickets for the show to-night.”
For a time the spirit of gloom seemed to settle down over the motor boat and her occupants.
The three chums, Ned, Bob and Jerry, had set off early that afternoon from Boxwood Hall, where they were students, to cross Lake Carmona. They were going to Haredon, a small town on the other side of the body of water, and there Ned and Bob expected to meet their respective fathers who were on a business trip together, and had written that they would stop off to see their sons, and have dinner with them, before resuming their journey.
The boys had hired a large motor boat, as their own, the Neboje, as well as their automobile, had already been shipped to Cresville because of the approach of the summer vacation, and started on the trip. The details of the expedition had been left to Bob. Jolly and good-natured, Bob never thought very far ahead, and the double calamity of not having had the gasoline tank filled and having taken out the oars, by which the boat could have been surely, if slowly, propelled, had left the boys becalmed in the middle of Lake Carmona on a hot day.
Owing to the fact that there were some races being held on this day, nearly all the other students had gathered at the lower end of the lake, as had most of the craft of persons living on the shores. This made the middle and upper end deserted of the usual flotilla; so there was scant chance of the boys getting a tow.
They ate for a while in silence, and then Bob had an inspiration.
“I believe it will work!” he cried.