“That’s right.” Toby waved his hat in reply and sent the Turnover along faster. “I wonder what launch that is,” he added as the distance lessened. “She looks a bit like——” his voice dwindled. Then he laughed, and: “That’s just who she is!” he cried gayly. “That’s the Frolic, sis! And, unless I’m much mistaken, that’s Pretty Boy waving!”
CHAPTER III
ARNOLD PAYS HIS DEBTS
Toby was not mistaken, for presently the Turnover was close enough to the disabled white launch for him to identify one of her two passengers as Arnold Deering. Who the other boy was Toby didn’t know, nor did he much care. He slipped the clutch into neutral and let the Turnover run down alongside the Frolic. As he did so he vastly enjoyed the expression of surprise and annoyance that came into Arnold’s face when the latter recognized him.
“Hello,” said Toby as the boats bobbed side by side. “Want some more gasoline?”
“Hello,” answered Arnold gruffly. “This silly engine’s out of whack. We can’t start her. If you’ll give us a tow I’ll pay you for it.”
Toby considered a moment, or appeared to. Then, as the Turnover was floating past, he threw in the clutch again and circled around to the other side. At last: “I don’t know about towing,” he said doubtfully. “The Frolic’s pretty heavy for us, I guess. I might send some one out to you when I get in.”
Phebe uttered a low-voiced protest. “Don’t be horrid, Toby,” she said. “Of course we can tow them.”
But the boys in the white launch didn’t hear that, and Arnold looked dismayed. “But, look here, whatever-your-name-is——”