“But what are we going to do?” cried Hazel, opening her eyes wide. She seemed in much distress.
“Do? Why, stay right here, my dear,” said Jack. “That is, if you will allow that poetic license—because ‘dear’ rhymes with ‘here.’”
“Oh,” murmured Hazel, blushing. “Stay here?”
“We have remained on board over night,” Cora remarked. “But we’ll be a bit crowded,” and she glanced appraisingly at Jack and his chums.
“Don’t worry about us, Sis,” he hastened to assure her. “We can bunk anywhere, or sit up. I don’t feel sleepy anyhow.”
“But we’ve got to eat,” said Walter. “Too bad that chap didn’t have any fish. We could have fried them on the gasoline stove.” The Corbelbes was fitted up with a little galley, the girls often having stayed on board for days at a time.
“Maybe we can catch some ourselves,” suggested Paul.
“No outfit or bait,” remarked Jack.
“A bent pin and a piece of string?” suggested Paul, but not with any degree of enthusiasm.
“Well, we’ve got to do something,” Cora declared. She had again set the engine in motion, but it was running only fast enough to overcome the sluggish current in the creek.