"Do we have to give the boats back right away, Jim?" asked a voice from the bow. Roy hesitated, hoping that as before someone would answer for him. But no one did. So he plucked up his courage.
"Guess so," he replied, rather huskily.
"Say, you've got a peach of a cold, haven't you?" asked his neighbor. "Did you get wet?"
"Sopping," growled Roy.
"Too bad. You come up to my room when we get back and I'll give you a dose of medicine. I've got some dandy stuff! Nasty's no name for it, but it'll do you good."
"Thanks," muttered Roy.
Meanwhile the others were discussing the yielding of the prizes of war.
"They'll probably be around in the morning for them," said one boy. "I vote we all go down to the landing and receive them."
"Sure; we always do," said another.
"Much you know about it," said a third. "You weren't here two years ago, and we didn't get them last year."