“Wow! you’re on the job now, when you say that, and funny I hadn’t noticed it before, Jack,” George declared. “Now that you mention it, I declare if it isn’t just remarkable. I suppose all of our boats have doubles, somewhere in the country; for the makers have a model they follow out heaps of times in a season; but all the same, it strikes a fellow as queer to run across a duplicate of the boat he’s kind of looked on as his own especial property.”
“Well,” grunted Nick, who had been near enough to overhear this talk, “I’m right sorry for somebody then, if there’s a ringer for the Wireless. They have my sympathy, I tell you that right now.”
But George only sniffed, and disdained to notice the slur cast upon his pet. It seemed that the more the others found fault with the actions of the Wireless, the greater became his attachment for the erratic boat.
“Well, they’re ahead of us again, for one thing,” he remarked. “It looks like a game of tag, right along; now we’re leading, and then they forge ahead. I’m just going to keep tabs on that boat, for fun; and some fine day perhaps I’ll have my curiosity satisfied. I’d give something to know who they are, and why they act like they do.”
“Oh! they won’t keep me awake much, I tell you that,” said Nick, loftily. “When I bother my head it’s going to be about something worth while—understand?”
“Sure,” remarked George, quickly. “Something that threatens a calamity in the feeding line, for instance; a running short of supplies. That’s the subject Nick worries about most.”
“Well, is there any more important business known than supplying the human engine with plenty of fuel?” demanded the other, sturdily. “Perhaps the engineer may be the more important fellow of the two; but the stoker is just as necessary, if the machine is to be kept going. But there’s Josh calling me to help him. I’m always Johnny-on-the-spot when it comes to helping Josh get grub ready”—and he waddled off serenely; for Nick was so happily constituted that no matter what jabs he received from his chums, they seemed to roll from him like water from a duck’s back.
“Hear the mullet jump?” remarked Jack, as they ate supper after night had set in. “D’ye know, fellows, this ought to be a good time to try that fish spear?—for we’ll have an hour of dark before the old moon peeps up, and there isn’t a breath of wind to ruffle the water. Jimmy, I appoint you to push me around a bit, and see what we can do, though I wouldn’t count too much on any big score.”
“I’m on, Jack, darlint,” Jimmy immediately responded; “and it’s ready I am now.”