“No, I’m not going to bother my head over things that may never happen,” he declared; and with that Jimmy paddled away in the little dinky, grinning broadly at the uneasy Nick.
“Nobody just knows what that fellow will do next,” muttered the fat boy, as he followed his retreating rival with his eyes.
Meanwhile Jack was taking a look around with his glasses.
“Somehow I don’t altogether like this place after we’ve anchored,” he remarked.
“And why?” inquired Herb.
“For one thing,” Jack continued, “it’s more exposed than would be pleasant, if one of those Northers we’ve been hearing so much about should spring up in the night. And I’ve been watching those ibis and cranes flying over for some time now. They all head in one quarter, and from that I reckon there’s a bird roost over yonder.”
Herb pricked up his ears, for he had long since expressed a desire to look in on a real roosting place, where all kinds of birds came together each night.
“I tell you, Jack,” he remarked, eagerly, “let’s change our anchorage, and head that way. It can’t be more than a mile or so further in, d’ye think?”