“That comes in through the stuffing-box,” said Jerry. “It just needs a little tightening. We’ll haul her out to-morrow.”
“Yes, we ought to get her in good trim, and take a long trip,” suggested Bob. “We could pack up a lot of grub——”
“There he goes! Grab him before he makes it any worse!” laughed Ned, extending a hand to clap over Bob’s mouth. But the fat lad evaded his tormentor.
“That’s all right!” Bob protested. “We’ll want something to eat if we go on a cruise; won’t we?”
“Sure we will!” agreed Jerry. “Don’t let him worry you, Bob. He’s just as fond of eating as you are, Chunky, only he hides his bad habit. But, seriously, fellows, what are we going to do this vacation?”
“We ought to do something,” declared Ned. “Every summer we have gone somewhere, or done something. I wouldn’t mind finding another buried Mexican city.”
“Me either!” cried Bob. “Or locating the hermit of Lost Lake.”
“That wasn’t a bad stunt,” admitted Jerry. “I don’t know as I care for a trip like our last one, though, in a submarine. It’s a little too uncertain, especially when you’re cooped up under the sea with a madman.”
“You’ve said it!” cried Bob. “I think our airship stunts were about as good as any. The time we went after that fortune we had lots of exciting times.”
“And when we were over the ocean, looking for the lost dirigible—that kept us guessing,” said Ned.