Outside they heaved sighs of relief. “Gee!” said Dan, “we got out of that cheap, didn’t we?” And all concurred. Only Tom looked sorrowful. “They have swell grub at the Inn,” he murmured regretfully. CHAPTER X DESCRIBES AN AFTERNOON ON THE LAKE AND A GALLANT RESCUE The Chicora was a trim-looking steam-launch, thirty feet in length, and with a comfortable beam. And when she steamed away from the landing, at three o’clock, she held sixteen boys, Mr. Clinton, Mr. Verder, and Mr. Thorpe. She was pretty well loaded, but there still remained room for several parents and relatives who were to be picked up at the Inn. Dan, Nelson, Tom, and Bob were perched on the tiny deck space aft of the cabin and looked very, very good. When Aunt Louisa appeared, looking rather doubtful of the enterprise, she was conducted to a seat near-by. “You needn’t tell me why you didn’t come to dinner,” she said at once. “I felt pretty certain you’d made yourself sick with that candy, and now I’m sure of it. I never knew you to look like an angel, Tom, save when you were sick or getting well.” Whereupon she was acquainted in whispers of the real reason of their non-appearance, and wouldn’t believe that “Mr. Hurry” had performed such a hazardous feat until, the launch having turned its nose across the lake, the cliff came into sight and the staring blue letters were quietly pointed out to her. “Well, I never!” she ejaculated. “If that wasn’t a clever thing to do! And a very wicked one!” she added quickly and disapprovingly. “Scenery’s very pretty to-day,” remarked Carter, grinning at Dan. And Dan, with an apologetic glance at Aunt Louisa, kicked Carter good and hard. Mr. Clinton, busy at the engine, refused to hear. Neither did he show that the offensive inscription on the cliff ahead of them was in existence. Once headed down the lake the launch got the full effect of the waves, which, under a strong easterly wind, were kicking up quite a rumpus. Those in the bow received frequent wettings, and there was a struggle for places there. Aunt Louisa was quite certain she was going to be seasick, and insisted cheerfully that, in such a contingency, she must be set ashore at once, no matter where. “I always say,” she announced, “that it’s a heap better to go ashore, even if it’s on a desert island, than stay in a boat and be sick. And I do hope Mr. Clinton will keep near land, for seasickness does come on so suddenly!” But the foot of the lake was reached without any signs of illness on her part other than a slight uneasiness, and when they had passed under the bridge by the village and began to wind through the little river, even that was forgotten. In many places the trees almost swept the boat with their branches, and the channel was so narrow that the most careful steering was necessary. Half-way through to Hipp’s Pond there was a shout from the fellows in the bow.