“Got a launch, too, I see; and a rowboat and a canoe. Quite a navy at your command.”
“The launch belongs to Dick,” said Chub. “The canoe is mine and the skiff belongs to the school. The launch is named the Pup.”
“The Pup?” laughed their guest. “How’d you happen to think of that?” Dick explained and the artist was vastly amused.
“Well,” he said, “if I followed your method my boat would be called the Great Silence, I guess.”
“Won’t the engine go yet?” asked Dick solicitously.
“Oh, I haven’t tried it since morning. I don’t like to hurry it. I think, though, that I’ll stay here a day or so. I’ve found some nice bits that I’d like to try my hand at.”
“Do you paint landscapes?” asked Harry.
“Mostly, yes; figures now and then. Landscape is my line, but I’d rather do figures; I guess it’s human nature to always want to do something you can’t. And that reminds me,” he turned to Harry, “you look like an amiable young lady. Suppose, now, you should sit for me a little while to-morrow. What do you say? It won’t be difficult, you know. Just sit kind of still for—hem—an hour. I’d be awfully much obliged, really.”
“Sit for you?” stammered Harry. “Do you mean that you want to paint me!”