“You know what Alex said about leaving the fish by the roadside,” Clay laughed. “How would you like some of those fish right now? They would go pretty good, eh?”
“I wonder if I could find them?” Case said.
“In this storm? I should say not! Forget it!”
But Case seemed fascinated with the idea of getting those fish, and referred to the fact that they were lying there in the rain, doing no one any good, several times during the next few minutes. At last Clay said with a laugh:
“Oh, go on and get the fish, if you are so stuck on doing it! There won’t be any peace on the boat until you have tried! I haven’t any idea that you will succeed, but you can try!”
Case arose from the locker, where he had been sitting, and, going to the window, looked out on the driving rain. The night was sultry, and the rain splashing on the deck of the motor boat seemed rather attractive.
The boy threw off the light coat he had worn and stood in undershirt and light trousers. After looking critically at his feet for a second, he proceeded to put on a pair of coarse shoes, well calculated for walking in rocky places.
“So you are going, after all!” Clay laughed. “Well, good luck go with you! If a crazy notion ever got into a boy’s head, one has entered yours now! The idea of going out in this storm! Why, it is raining some, I tell you!”
“Who cares for the rain?” was the reply. “I shall enjoy the trip immensely! If we had Alex or Jule here to explain their line of march, we’d have fish to eat!”
“But they are not here,” commented Clay, “and one might as well look for a needle in a load of hay as to try to follow their footsteps. Better give the thing up!”