“Gracious! I don’t see why in the world Victor wants to go to Milwaukee by boat,” he thought, nervously. He took a long, earnest look at the sky, then exclaimed, with considerable emphasis:
“No, Vic, I most certainly do not!”
CHAPTER IV
THE CIRCUS
The Ramblers and Charlie Blake secured quarters at one of Kenosha’s principal hotels. As Captain Bunderley had some business to attend to, Victor decided to remain with them until the hour for turning in.
Immediately after supper the crowd gathered in Bob Somers’ room.
Dave Brandon, the poet and historian of the club, was soon reclining with his accustomed ease at the window. The dark, gloomy night strangely stirred his imagination. Vague inspirations floated through his brain. He thought of the lonely lake as the subject for a poem; he cudgeled his brain to seize and hold fast the elusive words which constantly flitted before his mental vision.
Presently Dave sat up. A walk in the open air, he decided, might aid him in cornering this near-inspiration.
Bob Somers was busy writing a letter; Victor and Charlie were talking, while Tom at a table all by himself kept scribbling on sheet after sheet of paper. Tom’s face wore a tremendous frown, as though his work were of a deep and absorbing nature.
“Hello! Owing to the increased demand for paper the price must soon advance,” chirped Victor, suddenly. “What’s up?”
“You mean what’s going down,” laughed Blake.