“Oh, let’s wait and get our breakfast at one of the hotels, and sail down the river in Ethan’s boat,” said Bert, eagerly; and as it was apparent that all the boys shared in his desire, it was quickly decided to leave their rods and the personal effects they had brought with them in his care.
Ethan received the rods with a grunt, which was not expressive of high admiration for their outfit, and the boys at once started up the street to secure their breakfast. They were too much excited to give much attention to the straggling little village of Clayton, for their appetites were imperative and must be satisfied, and soon they entered one of the hotels and secured places in the dining room.
“I tell you what,” exclaimed Bert, “this is great! I never saw such a sight as this river. We’ll have a great time here. Even Bob is excited.”
“Hungry, you mean,” replied that individual. “You fellows have been all stirred up by the scenery, but I’m thinking of the inner man.”
“I’m not,” said Ben. “Do you know, Jock, I’m afraid of that Ethan of yours.”
“Afraid of him? What do you mean?”
“Why, he acts as if he was a king or some other potentate. You don’t really suppose he actually owns one of these islands, do you?”
“I don’t know,” replied Jock. “I’ll ask him, if you want me to.”
“Well, the way that same Ethan looks at us, and sniffs at our rods, and treats us as if we were boys, just scares me; it does, for a fact. I don’t know the difference between a reel and a rod, and somehow I know I shan’t even dare to put a worm on my hook if he’s looking at me.”
“Put a worm on your hook!” exclaimed Jock, laughingly. “You are green. You don’t use worms here.”