“I knew it,” grinned Bob. “Dave, it’s your turn now.”
And the stout boy, lolling back in his chair, obligingly answered a volley of questions.
Half an hour later Joe Preston exclaimed:
“That settles it! You fellows will simply have to go with us.”
“And I almost believe we shall,” laughed Bob.
The cabin shook with applause.
“Where on earth should we have been but for Mr. Marshall’s engine?” said Aleck.
“On the water,” gurgled Joe.
“It ought to be here to-morrow morning,” went on Aleck, scorning to notice Joe’s flippancy. “To-day’s Monday; let’s see—Tuesday, Wednesday—Thursday we ought to start; and——”
“Dash madly up the Hudson at about three miles an hour,” laughed Jack. “Say! Who’s going to do the cooking?”