“That’ll do for you,” Nick declared sternly. “She was a fine and dandy little lady, and I hope some time in the future I’ll see Sallie Bliss again.”
“Bliss! Oh! what d’ye think of that, fellows?” roared George.
“Leave Buster alone, can’t you?” Jack said, in pretended indignation. “He’s all right, and honest as the day is long. None of your Crafty Clarence in his makeup, you know, fellows.”
Clarence Macklin was a boy who came from the same town as those around the camp fire. He was the son of a very rich man, who supplied him with almost unlimited spending money. Consequently Clarence was able to carry out any folly that chanced to crop up in his scheming mind.
Learning through trickery of the intention of the motor boat boys to cruise among the Thousand Islands, he had shipped his fast speed boat, called the Flash thither, and succeeded in giving them more or less annoyance. He was accompanied by his pet crony, a fellow called Bully Joe Brinker, who usually did the dirty work Clarence allowed himself to think up.
“Say, speaking of that fellow, wonder what’s become of him?” George remarked; for there was a standing rivalry between his boat and that of the other, both being built solely for speed, and not comfort or safety.
“Didn’t he hint something about coming up in this region later on?” said Jack.
“I understood it that way,” observed Herb. “And more than a few times, while we cruised along the southern shore of Ontario and Erie, I thought we’d see his pirate boat bob up.”
“I hope we don’t run across that crowd again,” observed Nick. “For they’re sore on us, and bound to do us a bad turn if they find the chance.”
“Well, we can keep our eyes open,” remonstrated George. “You know Clarence believes that Flash can make circles around my bully boat, and I’m wanting to give him a chance to prove it.”