Half an hour later they were sitting on the upper deck, their feet on the railing, feeling very much at peace with the world. To be sure, the mosquitoes were somewhat troublesome, but they strove to take Chub’s advice and bear the annoyance philosophically. A white light hung from the flag-pole above the wheel-house and from the after cabin a feeble glow spread itself over the water. They had left a lighted lamp there to fool the mosquitoes. “They’ll think we’re going to sleep in there,” explained Chub. “And after they’re all on hand, sharpening their bills, we’ll sneak down and close the door.” “And lock it,” counseled Roy. “And stuff up the keyhole,” added Dick. “Only thing I’m afraid of, though, is that they’ll eat up all the provisions.” But after a while Chub was obliged to acknowledge that his plan wasn’t proving entirely successful. “I guess some of these mosquitoes haven’t seen that light,” he muttered, waving his hands about his head. “Suppose you run down and turn up the lamp, Dick.” “I wouldn’t venture in there among all those angry mosquitoes for the world!” answered Dick. “They’d just simply tear me to pieces. I wish I had some pennyroyal.” “I wish you had,” Roy agreed. “I’d borrow some. I wonder why mosquitoes always go for a fellow’s ankles.” “They go for the biggest things they see,” explained Chub, “which, of course, are your feet. As they can’t bite through leather they tackle your ankles. They never trouble my ankles.” “No, I suppose they go for your _cheek_,” retorted Roy. “What are you rubbing your ankles together for, if they don’t bite them?” “Er--one of my feet is asleep.” “So am I--almost,” said Dick, drowsily. “What time is it?” “About half past eight,” said Roy. “What time do we have breakfast?” “At eight, sharp,” answered Dick, yawning. “That means getting up at seven,” murmured Chub. “Then I must go to bed at once or I shan’t have half enough sleep.” “Being on the river certainly does make a fellow sleepy,” laughed Roy. “I suppose we’ll get used to it after a day or two, though.” “Like the mosquitoes,” said Dick. “I wish I could believe that tale of Chub’s; it would help me to bear my present troubles with more--more--” “Equanimity,” said Chub, helpfully. “It’s a scientific fact, though, Dickums. Why, after a week or so--” “You said a day or two!” “Or thereabouts, the mosquitoes simply won’t look at you. They won’t touch you even if you go down on your knees and beg ’em to!” “I have a funny picture of myself doing it!” growled Dick. “I don’t approve of these low expressions you use,” said Chub regretfully. “I suppose you learn them at school. You should choose your companions very carefully, Dickums.” “I have since you fellows left,” answered Dick with a grin.