As Steele had feared, the news leaked out. Benny Wilkins told a friend, in confidence; this friend unbosomed himself to a chum, in confidence, and so on, until the "leak" could only be compared to the bursting of a great water main that sends up streams far above the housetops.
Naturally enough, it created a mild sensation. Boys discussed it animatedly on the campus, as they walked home, and at Terry Guffin's. In some remarkable manner vague suggestions of what Mr. Barry may have said became changed, by a steady process of evolution, into definite phrases.
Bob expressed the situation correctly when he said:
"Those 'They say' chaps have the floor."
But the Somers party treated all insinuations and rumors with a hot breath of scorn that almost, but not quite, extinguished the tiny fire which was kindled.
A few days later three lads strolling along the bank of Wolf River were considerably surprised and interested to discover a large motor yacht approaching.
Some of the richer residents of Kingswood owned gasoline launches or yachts; but none could be compared to the magnificent boat which now cut swiftly through the placid water of the river.
"Well, that's certainly a corker," remarked Luke Phelps, who had been busily engaged in throwing stones at a half-submerged barrel.
"Never saw a finer," said Jim Wilton, a junior at the High. "Wonder what she's doing here? Slowing up, by Jingo!"
"All boats slow up before they stop," grinned Phelps. "Say, fellows, it's got a real saucy name, hasn't it?"