They tried every ride, the merry-go-round and the ferris wheel, roller skated, went bathing, listened to the band concert, munched hot dogs at irregular intervals and wound up the afternoon almost exhausted and ready to start for home. So were some other hundreds of people and they found it impossible to get a place in one of the speedboats.
The Queen puffed majestically at her pier and Capt. Billy Tucker pulled twice on the whistle cord. Two long, mellow blasts echoed over the lake. The Queen would leave for Rolfe in five minutes.
“Looks like we’ll have to take the Queen if we want to get home in any reasonable time,” said Margaret.
Tom looked at the throngs waiting for the boats.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “We won’t be able to get on one of the fast boats for at least two hours and I’m getting hungry. I saw mother putting some pie away in the ice box last night and there’ll be plenty of cold milk at home.”
“Don’t,” protested Helen, “I’m so hungry now I’m hollow.”
“Then let’s take the Queen,” urged Margaret.
They bought their tickets and hurried onto the main deck of the old lake boat.
“It will be cooler on top,” said Helen and they went up the broad stairs to the upper deck. Perched on this deck was the pilot house where Captain Billy ruled.
He saw them and motioned them to join him.