“I guess,” said the skipper, at last turning to the boys, “that the best way for me to do will be to go down through St. Mary’s River and then strike into the North Channel. I’ll keep close to the shore of Drummond Island and then I’ll come around to Cockburn Island that way.”
“Your tub,—I mean your motor-boat,” said Fred correcting himself quickly, “doesn’t seem to be making very fast time.”
“It’s fast enough,” said the skipper quietly. “Time ain’t much use to me. Some folks say time is money. If I had as much money as I had time I wouldn’t be carrying two young sprints like you down through Mud Lake.”
“How long do you think you’ll be before we land at Mackinac Island?” inquired Fred.
“Not knowing, I can’t say,” replied the captain. “My general feeling is that if we make it by day after to-morrow we’ll be doing mighty well.”
“What do you mean?” demanded John blankly.
“I mean just what I say. I’m not going to drive my boat very hard and by the time we have gone down St. Mary’s River and into the North Channel and then around to Cockburn Island it will be some time before we can start for Mackinac.”
“But where will we stay nights?” inquired Fred.
“We’ll pick out a good place somewhere. I have got a canvas that stretches over the boat and will keep out the wind and we can crawl under that when it gets dark.”
“But you haven’t enough for us to eat.”