“Yes,” said Mr. Berkeley. “I am an old traveller, and I know that a great many things happen on these little trips. One of you may tumble overboard, and need a dry shirt, and at any rate you ought to feel that you may rough it as much as you please, and yet look clean and decent when you are coming home.”
Hyson Hall was appointed for the rendezvous of the boys, and, after a slight luncheon, Joel drove them over to Boontown. But before they started Mr. Berkeley gave each of them a long, stout fishing-line, suitable for salt-water fishing.
“You may have a chance to use these,” he said, “and I don’t believe any of your own lines are strong enough for deep-water work.”
He gave Phil a pocket lantern and a tin box of matches, with a paper of extra fish-hooks and various other little articles, which might be of use.
“If I’d been going by myself,” said Chap, “I’d have just clapped on my hat, and started for town.”
“Yes,” said Phœnix, “and then, when you got a chance to fish, you’d have growled because you hadn’t a line. I tell you what it is, Phil, your uncle knows what he is about. I wish I knew what he said to father.”
“Some magic words,” said Chap; “but you needn’t think anybody is ever going to tell them to you. You’d go round slinging spells over your whole family, and having everything your own way. I rather think you’d have an easy time of it.”
“Yes,” said Phœnix, “you’re about right, and when any work turned up that I wanted to do, I’d chuck a spell over a long-legged fellow named Chap Webster, and make him come and help.”
“Joel,” said Chap, “hadn’t you better touch up the noble beast? We don’t want to be late, you know.”
“We’ll get there soon enough,” said Joel. “I drive on time, and I never miss trains.”