“I just love it! And the best part is yet to come!” cried Agnes, with sparkling eyes. “I want to see the islands in the lake.”
“And I want to get to Trumbull and see if my father is there,” added Neale. “I think I’ll send him a letter. I’ll mail it here. It won’t take but a moment.”
“You don’t know his address,” said Agnes.
“I’ll send it just to Trumbull,” said the boy. “Post-office people are sharks at finding people.”
He wrote the note while the final preparations were being made for leaving on the trip up the river. Mrs. MacCall had attended to the buying of food, which was all that was needed.
And then, after Neale had sent his letter to the post-office, he went down in the engine room of the Bluebird.
“Are we all ready!” he called up to Mr. Howbridge, who was going to steer until Neale could come up on deck after the motor had been started.
“All ready!” answered Ruth.
Neale turned the flywheel over, there was a cough and a splutter, and then a steady chug-chugging.
“Oh, we’re going! We’re going!” gayly cried Tess and Dot. Almost anything satisfied them as long as they were in motion.