“Of course I knew he could swim, but—but supposing a shark got him!” And she was quite incredulous when they assured her that there were no sharks that far up the Hudson. “You don’t know anything about it,” she said. “A shark could swim up here if he wanted to.”
“Oh, well, the only shark Snip need be afraid of is a dog-shark,” said Chub. “And they keep those muzzled.”
Presently, inaction beginning to pall on them, they started diving from the rock, Dick, who knew little about diving, cheerfully striving to duplicate every stunt shown by Roy and Chub and coming many a cropper in consequence. Then they had a foot-race up the beach which Chub won handily, and a broad-jumping contest which went to Roy.
“What time do we have dinner?” asked Chub, as he climbed back to the rock, panting.
“Any time; whenever we’re ready for it,” answered Roy.
“Well, I’m ready right now,” Chub assured him. “What time is it, do you suppose?”
“About a quarter of twelve,” replied Dick after a scrutiny of the sun and the shadows. “Let’s mosey back and get dressed. There are potatoes to get ready.”
“O-o-oh!” howled Chub.
“What’s the matter?” asked Harry anxiously.
“I hurt my wrist when I was jumping,” answered Chub.