"For which let us all be truly thankful," murmured Sam to Tom.
"Ten minutes more," announced Dick, looking at his watch. "Then what do you say to a row on the river?"
"Suits me!" cried Tom.
"All right, then. Now clear out, and—silence!"
A quarter of an hour later the Rover boys and Songbird walked down to the river. There were plenty of boats to be had, and Dick and Tom were soon out. Songbird and Sam received an invitation to go for a ride in a gasolene launch owned by Stanley.
"Suits me!" cried the would-be poet. "I can row any time, but I can't always ride in a motor boat."
"Same here," said Sam.
A number of craft were on the river, including one containing Jerry Koswell and Bart Larkspur. Koswell scowled as he saw Tom and Dick rowing near by.
"We'll give 'em a shaking up," he said to his crony, and turned their rowboat so that it bumped fairly and squarely into the craft manned by Tom and Dick. The shock was so great that Dick, who had gotten up to fix his seat, was nearly hurled overboard.
"See here, what do you mean by running into us?" demanded the oldest
Rover on recovering his balance.