“And blankets.”
“And a boat,” added Dick, “and we can fish and—and have a high old time.”
“You bet,” said Chub. “It will beat that old summer hotel all hollow. Me for the simple life!”
“And I tell you what I’ll do,” exclaimed Dick. “I’ll get a little old gasolene launch, and we can make trips up the river—”
“Who’s going to run it?” asked Chub suspiciously.
“I am. It isn’t hard. I can learn in a day or two.”
“Oh, very well, but it’s me for the interior of our island home while you’re learning, Dickums!”
Dick laughed. “That’s all right,” he answered. “You’ll be glad enough to go in it when the time comes.”
“Well, maybe,” Chub agreed. “If it isn’t much worse than the ice-boat I guess I can live through it. How fast—”
“There’s the gun!” cried Roy as a distant boom floated down to them.