“Whew!” said Fred Button, rising and stretching himself, “I hope we’ll get some fish to-day. How far do we have to go?” he added, addressing the captain as he spoke.
“It depends a little upon where you want to go to,” drawled the captain in response, without turning his head as he replied.
“I thought it was understood,” continued Fred, “that we were going to the channel between Drummond Island and Cockburn Island.”
“Ye’ll have to show your papers, if you fish over on the Canadian side,” growled the captain.
“We shan’t fish on the Canadian side,” spoke up Grant Jones. “We’ll leave it to you to keep us in American waters.”
“That’s right,” added John. “If we get caught on the Canadian side, Captain, we’ll hold you responsible for it.”
“Humph,” growled the captain, “we’ll see what we’ll see.”
Meanwhile the sun had risen and like a huge ball of fire was casting its beams across the smooth waters of Lake Huron. Scarcely a ripple was to be seen as the boat sped forward. The day promised to be unusually warm, but as yet the air was cool, and the spirits of the boys, after their early breakfast, were all high.
“We’ve got to get some of these fish to-day,” broke in George Sanders. “We didn’t get many the other day.”
“We weren’t far enough away from Mackinac,” said Fred.