“They will have to stop over night in some pretty lonely localities, and rough characters may molest them.”
Mr. Somers smiled.
“I do not think you need have any fears, Mr. Winter,” he said, reassuringly. “Jack and his friends are old enough to look out for themselves, Bob is used to boats, and a trip of this sort should do them a world of good.”
“Let us hope so, at any rate,” said Fred’s father, still a trifle nervously.
The seven boys were dressed for solid comfort, and had brought with them boots, leggins and sweaters. The first flush of excitement over, it was noticed that Fred Winter wore a broad-brimmed felt hat of uncertain age.
“I say——” whispered Joe. “Why?”
“I’m not going to get my face burned to a blister—that’s why. You’ll catch it from the sun and reflections in the water. Better chuck those caps away, and——”
“Oh, that peaches and cream complexion!” gurgled Joe.
The supreme moment had come. The near and distant relatives poured forth a steady stream of advice and admonition. Several curious loungers, all wearing broad grins, added a word now and then, and the boys had their own troubles in trying to hear as little as possible.
“All aboard!” commanded Jack.