“I don’t believe you’ll find much of that around Peekskill,” responded Dick. “Look at the map!” “Oh, you mustn’t believe all you see on the map,” answered Chub, cheerfully. “Something tells me--” placing a finger on the chart--“that here I shall find virgin forest. Also trout. Let us up and away.” They chugged unhurriedly up the river all the morning, the engine much to Dick’s delight, working beautifully. At noon they tied up near Ossining and had dinner. “I’d hate to travel on that,” said Chub, pointing with his fork to a steamer which was gliding by out in the river. “It goes so fast those people can’t begin to see the beauties of the country. Now with us it’s different. We catch sight of an object of interest at ten in the morning. At eleven we approach it. At twelve we reach it. At one we are by but still have it in plain sight. It fades from view at four in the afternoon. That’s something like. We have time to study and--er--assimilate, you see. Why, every feature of the landscape we have passed is indelibly engraven on my memory.” “Oh, come now,” laughed Roy, “the _Slow Poke_ hasn’t done so badly. We’ve come a good thirteen miles since breakfast.” “What I’m afraid of,” said Dick, “is that if we keep on going like this we’ll be at the end of the river before we know it. How much more is there?” “Only about two hundred and twenty-five miles,” replied Roy, dryly. “If we keep on at the present rate of progress we’ll reach the end of it in about eleven days--if we don’t stop on the way.” Dick looked relieved. “Oh, that’s all right, then. Because we are going to stop, of course.” “We’re going to do more stopping than anything else,” said Chub. “House-boats are intended primarily to stop in. As--as vehicles of travel they are not to be taken seriously.” “My!” murmured Dick, “what a college education does do for a fellow!” “English A is a great course,” agreed Roy, smilingly. “You’ll be so happy next year with your little daily themes, Dick!” Dick groaned. They wandered on again in the afternoon, Roy taking another lesson on the gas-engine, and stopped for the night in a little cove on the east side near Cortlandt. As it still lacked almost an hour of supper-time, they left the boat to stretch their legs on shore. They found a road and tramped along it for a quarter of an hour without finding anything more interesting than a farm-house. But the farm-house put an idea into Chub’s head. He stopped at the gate and pointed. “Milk,” he ejaculated. “Yes, but we didn’t bring anything to put it in,” Roy objected. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll lend us a can, maybe. Come on.” So they trudged up the long lane and knocked on the front door. Receiving no answer after a decent interval of waiting, they proceeded around back. At a little distance stood a big barn. Near-by was a well with a number of big milk cans beside it. “There you are,” said Chub. “Maybe they’ll lend us one of those. Come on.”