Early that Saturday morning the Captain had aroused Slim from his peaceful slumbers unceremoniously. “Hurry up and come over,” he said, in response to Slim’s protesting grunt. “Uncle Theodore’s here with his automobile and he’s going to take a run over to Freeport this morning and he said he would take all the fellows along that were ready at nine o’clock. Hurry.”
Slim needed no second invitation and roused himself immediately, while the Captain sped to collect the remainder of the Sandwiches, which was accomplished in short order, as none of the other invitations involved resurrection. Nine o’clock found them all on the curbstone before the Captain’s house, standing beside Uncle Theodore’s big car, waiting for the word to pile in. The ride to Freeport was accomplished in a few hours’ time and after dinner Uncle Theodore turned the boys loose to see the town by themselves while he transacted the business which had taken him thither. Freeport had no attraction outside of its harbor, and thither the boys betook themselves without delay. Passenger steamers left every half hour for the various islands nearby; lime boats, tugs and scows crowded the mouth of the river, and the whole atmosphere breathed of ships. The boys stood and watched a while and then pined for something to do.
“Let’s hire a launch,” suggested the Captain, who felt that it was up to him to furnish the amusement, inasmuch as he had invited them to come along, “and go out on the lake.”
Launches were readily to be had and soon they were curving around in great circles through the waves, drenched with the spray, and enjoying it as only boys can enjoy the sensation of riding in a speed boat.
“Let’s go to Rock Island,” said Slim, who had not forgotten who else had planned to go there that day.
“What for?” asked the Captain.
“Oh, nothing,” answered Slim, “except that there’s a pretty nice aquarium there, and—and the girls said they were going to be there.”
“But we were politely invited to stay home, if I remember rightly,” said Bottomless Pitt. “They’re going to have a pow-wow, or something like that.”
“But if we should run into them accidentally they would probably be glad to see us,” persisted Slim. Slim was fond of picnics gotten up by girls on account of the superior quality of the “grub”; he was especially fond of Winnebago picnics, because the Winnebagos treated him better than any other girls he knew, and as mentioned before, he had a decided weakness for red hair. Hence his ingenuous desire to go to Rock Island. The Captain, knowing Slim like a book, laughed. But he, too, wished he had been invited to the picnic, and his reasons coincided in their last item with Slim’s.
“All right,” he said, and turned the boat’s head toward the green outline of Rock Island. Half of the distance across the bay the launch wheezed and stopped dead.