“Then I’ll ask him, but of course he will lie to me.” Chub was back in a minute shaking his head dismally. “He _says_ Track 8, and that there’s a train in about four minutes, but of course--” “Come on,” said Roy impatiently, “don’t let’s lose another.” They sought Track 8, Chub expostulating against the folly of believing the gateman. But both the conductor and the brakeman assured them earnestly that the train did go to Loving’s Landing, and after some persuasion Chub allowed himself to be dragged aboard. “Have your own way,” he sighed. “But when you get out in Chicago or Cincinnati or New Orleans don’t blame me, don’t blame me! I wash my hands of the whole undertaking.” “I guess it won’t hurt them,” answered Dick cruelly. Loving’s Landing, at first sight, didn’t appear to be worth the trouble they had taken to find it. It was largely composed of lumberyards, machine-shops and wharves in front of which dirty little canal-boats were lying. Higgins’s Boat Yard was difficult to discover, each informant directing them differently, but at last they found it tucked away between the railroad and the river and hidden by a lumberyard. They presented their credentials at the office and were directed to where the _Jolly Roger_ lay ready for launching. By that time Chub was speculating on the chances of obtaining luncheon in such a “one-horse metropolis.” The _Jolly Roger_ lay at the top of the way, one end tilted high in air. It was something of a feat to board her and more of a feat to move around after they were there. The doors and windows had been opened but the interior still had a musty odor that caused Roy to sniff in displeasure. For the next half-hour they roamed around in and out, planning and making memoranda of things to buy. The boat was furnished just as when they had last seen it, although the hauling out had seriously displaced many of the articles. In the forward cabin,--or living-room, just as you had a mind to call it,--chairs and table had congregated against one wall as though holding a conference. “Seems to me,” said Chub, “we’re going to need a lot of things. We ought to have new curtains all over the shop, cot-beds, bedding, some more chairs--” “Well, we’ve got those all down,” answered Roy shortly. “What is most important. I fancy, is to have someone go over the engine.” “You bet,” Dick agreed. “We can do without new curtains better than we can do without an engine. I’ve been looking at the batteries and wiring and they’re all out of kilter. We’d better consult Higgins and find some one who can fix up that part of it.” “She doesn’t look much as she did last summer,” said Chub disappointedly. “Oh, she will when she gets in the water and we have her fixed up,” Dick replied. “How about painting her outside?”