"Huh!" grunted Nick, "I'd just like to have the fat contract for dredging out some of these muddy creeks. Say, mebbe a fellow wouldn't get rich on the job, eh? I think I'll have to mention it to my dad, for he's keen on contracts, you know."
They passed a pleasant evening. Jimmy was easily induced to get out his banjo and give them many brisk tunes that seemed to just go with the plunkety-plunk of the joyous instrument.
"Seems like a banjo just chimes in with Southern scenes," remarked Herb.
"Oh! shucks! this ain't the Sunny South yet awhile, Herb," laughed Josh. "Wait till we get down in South Carolina, anyhow, where we'll run across some palmetto trees. That gives the real tropical flavor."
"If there were only some monkeys frisking about in the feathery tops, it'd add a heap to it, in my opinion," remarked Nick.
"Or a few coy mermaids," laughed Jack; "but then our friend here wouldn't find it quite so easy to climb to the top of a palmetto as to tumble overboard."
"Let up on that, won't you, Jack? It's mean, rubbing it in so hard," complained the object of the roar that followed.
In this way, then, the evening passed. As the mosquitoes began to get in their work later, the boys changed their minds, and concluded to sleep aboard, instead of on shore, as they had at first intended.
With the morning, things began to happen again. Breakfast was eaten first, and then Jack, who had been assisting George examine his motor, discovered the cause of the unfortunate stop, so that the freakish engine was now apparently all right again.
They crossed both the Machipongo Inlets without any accident, though it was evident that the skipper of the Wireless was more or less nervous, and kept hovering close to the other boats, with an eye on the ropes which they kept coiled in the stern.