[CHAPTER XX.]
THE SHARK FISHERMAN.
“How long have we got before we ought to be home?” asked Herb, that night, as they prepared to camp ashore.
“Nearly three weeks left of our time,” remarked Josh, sadly; for, much as they wanted to see the dear ones, they would all be sorry when the vacation had reached its end, and once more they must take up school duties at home.
“But looky here,” piped up Nick, “my dad wrote me that they’d had a bad hitch about building the high school again. Seems like there was a labor strike that tied up everything. It ain’t settled yet, he says, and if it ain’t done soon, why, the chances are there won’t be any session at all this Spring, because they don’t know just where to house us!”
“Glory be!” cried Jimmy; “oh! what an illegant toime we could be afther having, down in this cruiser’s paradise, if so be thim laborin’ men only hold the fort a little longer!”
He voiced the sentiment that filled every heart, although no one else had spoken a word as yet.
“That would be too good to be true,” Jack laughed, shaking his head.
“Yes, and we mustn’t let the idea get hold of us, because we’d only be disappointed all the more,” Herb remarked.