“Not well—bad,” he said. “Denny wasn’t at home, and no one knew where he had gone. So we left a note for him, and we’ll be on hand to-night.”
“What about us?” asked Bess.
“You’d better stay here,” said Jack. “No telling what sort of a row we may run into, and you’re better at home.”
“I think so, too,” agreed Cora, but the look she gave her chums had more meaning in it than the mere words indicated. Bess and the others understood.
“And now,” went on Jack, “we’ll proceed to find out why the Dixie won’t mote. We want her in shape to-night.”
“That’s right,” assented Dray. “I think it’s the carbureter. I’ll get a man from the garage to look it over.”
“We’ll want a fast boat if the one those fellows have is as speedy as you girls say,” remarked Walter.
“Couldn’t we take the Chelton?” asked Ed.
“The Pickerel beat us to-day,” said Cora. “Besides, it might be good to have her in reserve. Try and have the Dixie fixed up.”
“We will!” promised her owner.