They climbed down and had a look at her from the wharf, finally agreeing that a coat of white on the house was necessary. Then they found the boat builder and talked it all over with him. As soon as he found that there was a prospect of work to be done he was all attention. He agreed to take charge of the matter, paint her as directed, have the engine and batteries thoroughly gone over and deliver her at a certain dock in the North River, New York, in one week’s time. “Of course he’s lying, too,” said Chub gloomily as they made their way out of the yard, “but it’s a sweet lie. I don’t suppose he will have her ready before the middle of July. Some one of us will have to come up here every day or so and get after him.” “Don’t you worry,” answered Dick, “Roy and I will camp on his trail, and by the time you come back she’ll be all ready.” Chub allowed himself to be comforted, and they set forth in search of luncheon. They found it, but the least said of it the better. The next morning Chub left for Pittsburg, having bound himself as one condition of the agreement with his father to spend a week at home before beginning the cruise in the house-boat. While he was away Roy and Dick fulfilled their promise to keep after Mr. Higgins, and that worthy responded finely to encouragement. The boys went to Loving’s Landing three times during the week, the last time bearing with them the new curtains which had been purchased by Mrs. Porter and made under her directions. [Illustration: Chub descended at the Porter’s bag and baggage] There were other purchases, too; cot-beds that folded into almost nothing when not in use, blankets, sheets, mattresses, and pillows, dishes and a few extra cooking utensils, new records for Mr. Cole’s talking machine, two brightly-hued and inexpensive Japanese rugs for the upper deck and numerous lesser things. The provisions were left to the last. They kept up an incessant and animated correspondence with Chub who hated to have anything done without getting a finger in it, and altogether that was a busy week. At the end of it, strange to say, the _Jolly Roger_ actually appeared in her berth in the river, and the next afternoon Chub descended at the Porter’s bag and baggage. CHAPTER VI THE JOLLY ROGER When I say that Chub arrived “bag and baggage,” I mean every word of it. It was a delightful afternoon--July was almost a week old--and Roy, pausing before his front door and fumbling for his latch-key, looked westward along the street into a golden haze of sunlight. And as he looked, suddenly there appeared, huge and formless in the sunset glow, something that arrested his attention. For a moment he couldn’t make it out, but presently, with a rattle of wheels, it drew near and resolved into a “four-wheeler” piled high with luggage. It pulled up at the curb before the door, and Chub leaped out, bringing with him numerous packages.