“Electricity is a wonderful thing,” said Jess, seriously. “Just think how fast it travels.”
“How fast?” demanded Bobby.
“Something like 250,000 miles a second, I read somewhere.”
“And so,” remarked Bobby, grinning, “if it hits anybody, it tells the judge it was going about ten miles an hour.”
They were out for a good time and could laugh at almost anything that was said, or was done. Freed from what Bobby called “the scholastic yoke,” the whole world seemed a big joke to them.
“I know we’re going to have the finest kind of a time at Acorn Island!” the cut-up exclaimed.
“Well! I hope there’s nothing much to do there to-night, save to eat supper,” Jess said, yawning. “So much ozone is already making me sleepy.”
“Father Tom promised to have a man there to meet us, who would even have the fire going and the teakettle boiling,” said Bobby. “You see, he’s been up here hunting and fishing, and these guides all know him. He can get what he wants from them.”
The boats chugged on up the river and finally, as the evening began to draw in, they sighted the broadening sheet of water which they knew to be 90 Lake Dunkirk. The lake was longer, but much narrower, than Lake Luna, and it was surrounded by an unbroken line of forest.
The sun was setting. Its last beams shone upon the island which lay about two miles above the entrance to Rocky River, and that island looked like an emerald floating on the blue water.