On Monday morning, after breakfast, the three boys were sitting in a small summer-house, which was built at the end of the pier belonging to the hotel.
A little way out in the river, The Rolling Stone was moored, and there were other boats anchored here and there in the river.
A party of sportsmen who had been at the hotel had already started on a trip down the river, and the white sails of their little yacht could be seen several miles away over the blue and sparkling water.
The river here was very broad, it being six miles across to the wide, low island which separated it from the sea, but for a long way out from the shore it was very shallow, and a party of boys with rolled-up trousers, waded out with their cast-nets to a distance which very much astonished our friends upon the pier.
“Well, I tell you what it is!” cried Chap; “we’ve got to do something, or go somewhere. We won’t leave this town till Wednesday, and that gives us two clear days, and we don’t want to waste them. Now, the point is, what is there to do that we can get the most fun out of?”
“I suppose Adam might put us up to something,” said Phœnix, “but he’s gone to work to help a man down there who is building a boat. He said he might as well make some money while he is here as not.”
“Well, then we’ll go ask some one else,” said Chap. “We’re bound to do something.”
At this moment a slow step was heard on the pier, and Mr. Brewer’s brother directly joined the group.
“Hello!” cried Chap. “I thought you would have been off for home long ago.”
“No,” said the other, languidly, taking a seat; “I ain’t in no hurry. I reckon I’ll start after awhile, some time. You fellers have got to wait here for the Winkyminky.”