“Is this place near enough?”
“Plenty.” Jim helped him out of the straps, and by that time Bob stepped over the fuselage to give a hand.
“Glad you didn’t try to jump over, Uncle Norman. How are your air-legs, wobbly?”
“A bit cramped.” He stretched them both, found they would work, and in a moment he mounted the boat pier. “I don’t expect to be more than half an hour.”
“We’ll wait here,” Jim promised.
“Oh, look at the hydroplane,” shouted a small boy on the shore.
“They are calling Her Highness names,” Bob scowled.
“She’s a hydroplane for the minute,” Jim replied. “Let’s taxi around the water.”
“It’s getting kind of rough. Up at North Hero it was as smooth as a sheet,” Bob answered. “Wish I knew more about water and its tricks.”
“I think we’re going to have a blow,” Jim speculated as Her Highness went rocking over the waves.