“What’s that for?” asked Mr. Brill, quickly.
“That’s my way of breaking a hoodoo,” said Bob.
But that, likewise, was of no avail, and the engine remained “dead.”
Jerry tried again, with no success, and then they all sat down on the shore and looked gloomily at the boat. It was getting late, no other craft was in sight, and the river at that point was too wide to admit of signalling, or calling to shore.
“I guess it’s us for an all-night stay,” remarked Bob, gloomily. “And not a bit of grub!”
“There would have been some in the box in the shack if you hadn’t insisted on eating the last box of sardines,” declared Ned, for often the boys would spend a day or two camping out on the island, and they had a small supply of provisions there.
“Well, I was hungry,” said the fat youth. “I had to eat ’em.”
“And you’re hungry now,” said Jerry.
“If we’ve got to stay here let’s go up to the cabin, and see what we can do about sleeping,” proposed Ned. “It’s pretty evident that we can’t get the motor going now. There must be something wrong with the valves. It’ll have to be taken apart. Let’s go to the shack.”