“That’s it. A whole lot of people got together after a while and persuaded the authorities to make a big slice of the Palisades into a public park. It’s dandy up there.”
Numbers of swift motor boats were going up and down, and the sound of rapid pulsations filled the air. Along the shore, at intervals, the white tents of campers-out flashed between the trees; and streamers of bluish smoke floated slowly in front of the rocks. It was a picturesque and beautiful scene.
When about three hundred feet from shore, Jack changed his course, heading up the river.
The “Gray Gull” attracted considerable attention; the campers-out gathered at the water’s edge, and their yells were answered with interest; the occupants of passing motor boats beamed upon them with kindly condescension.
“Those fellows think they’re the biggest things on the river,” grinned Joe; “but give me the ‘Gray Gull’ every time.”
“Me, too,” said Tom. “Plenty of room to move around in, and all the comforts of home.”
“Swell, eh?” said Aleck.
“That’s the word for it,” answered Joe. “Dandy place to camp, over there; but if we want to reach Albany before the summer’s over, we can’t do much of that.”
“One thing is going to help us, though,” put in Fred.
“What’s that?”