"Do it at your personal risk, then!" defied the young captain, arming himself with the water pitcher. "Now, then, will you all be quiet?"
"Oh, aye!" promised young Davis, with a sudden assumption of meekness.
"I trust you—trust you all to the death," affirmed Tom, grimly. "But I'm going to keep hold of the water pitcher just the same!"
"This deck doesn't look ship-shape, does it?" demanded Dick Davis, glancing about him. "Hadn't we better change craft? Wait here a moment."
Stepping to the push-button, he pressed twice, for the porter. Tom Halstead remained on guard, armed as before, and Joe keeping rather close to him, until the porter knocked at the door.
"See here, my friend," remarked Dick, holding out a dollar bill to the porter, "there has been a ship-wreck here."
"It looks like it, sir," grinned the porter, pocketing the money. "What'll you have, sir?"
"Find the chambermaid that belongs on this floor," begged Dick, "and bring her here."
The porter was soon back with the chambermaid, who also received a dollar bill from young Davis.
"Now, you two try some team-work, please," begged Dick Davis, "and see whether you can make this place look neat enough to be a captain's cabin. Gentlemen of the Motor Boat Club, will you adjourn to the costly quarters that Ab and myself consider almost good enough for us?"