"You might have offered to go back to get my bag," suggested Grant sharply when he resumed his seat on board.
"Yes, we might," said Fred. "We might have offered to buy a new one for you and fit it out with all the things you need, but we thought we wouldn't. You need the lesson, Soc. You have been telling all the world how to do it so long that it is time for you to begin to find out some things for yourself."
Grant made no reply and indeed he had little to say until the boat stopped at an attractive village where the boys obtained their luncheon.
When the voyage was resumed, Grant's confidence that his own missing bag would be found when they arrived at Utica in a measure served to restore his good nature and throughout the afternoon he took an active part in the bantering in which the boys engaged.
Occasionally Fred relinquished his task at the wheel and permitted his friends to take turns in steering the boat. The banks of the canal were free from rocks and even if the swift little motor-boat was turned from her course no great amount of damage could follow.
There were other boats they were informed that had preceded them and among them the references to the swift Varmint II were frequent.
On such occasions Fred's passengers at once resumed their task of informing their captain how small his chances of winning the race were becoming. Apparently the Varmint had everything her own way.
Fred did his utmost to appear indifferent to the words of his companions, but in spite of it all it became plain to the other boys that he was seriously disturbed by the comments they made.
There were times when, the course being clear, the speed of the Black Growler was increased almost to her maximum. At such times the farmers in the fields stopped in their labors and stared at the motor-boat, which almost seemed to be shooting through the country.
At other times when they were passing through villages or met a heavily laden canal-boat the Black Growler moved slowly and seemed to share in the need of caution.