“That would be dandy!” she cried. “Let’s do that, Dick! Do you mind?” “No, I think it would be very nice,” answered Dick. And so it was arranged that on Thursday afternoon Dick was to bring their share of the feast to the _Jolly Roger_, and as chef, was to take charge of the preparation of the feast. Presently Mr. Cole rose to leave. “By the way, Noon,” he said, “you’re a sort of Jack-of-all-trades. Know anything about gasolene engines?” “He knows all about them, sir,” answered Dick. “Does, eh? Well, then supposing you walk back to the boat with me and look over mine, Noon? It hasn’t been acting quite fair lately. I don’t mind its stopping now and then for a day or so, but it’s been overdoing it recently; it’s been imposing on me.” So the Floating Artist and the Licensed Poet took their departure, followed by Jack. When they were gone Harry turned to the boys. “Why do you suppose he wants to paint me?” she cried breathlessly. “Well,” answered Roy judicially, “you know you’re not half bad looking, Harry.” “Pshaw!” exclaimed Chub. “It’s a case of love at first sight. He just wants an excuse to see her. Oh, look at Harry’s blushes, fellows!” “I’m not blushing!” cried Harry, with a stamp of her foot. “Oh, of course not,” answered Chub, “it’s just the light from the fire!” “You’re terribly fickle, though,” teased Dick. “A few days ago it was the Licensed Poet, and now--” “Harry’s a patron of the arts,” laughed Roy. “She won’t look at us pretty soon.” “I,” declared Chub, “shall learn to sculp.” “Learn what?” asked Roy. “Learn to sculp; to be a sculptor, you ninny. That’s an art, isn’t it?” “Not the way you’d do it,” answered Roy unkindly. “It would be a crime. Say, I thought you said Billy wouldn’t accept for Thursday.” “I didn’t say he wouldn’t accept,” Chub replied. “I said I didn’t think he’d be able to.” “Well, what’s the difference?” asked Dick jeeringly. “If you don’t know I shan’t tell you,” answered Chub with intense dignity. “Come on and get the canoe, Roy. This young artist’s model must go home and get her beauty-sleep.” Harry, who for several minutes had been sitting chin in hand staring into the fire, roused herself. “I think,” she remarked dreamily, half to herself, “that I’ll wear the gold brooch Aunt Harriet gave me for Christmas.” When they were getting ready for bed Dick said suddenly: “I’d like to know who the dickens this Billy Noon is! Where do you suppose the painter chap got to know him?” “Oh, that’s easy,” yawned Chub. “It was when Billy was with the circus. Mr. Cole was the elephant.” CHAPTER XVII HARRY SITS FOR HER PICTURE When Harry reached the _Jolly Roger_ the next forenoon Jack arose from his place on the sunny deck and walked forward to meet her, wagging his tail in cordial welcome. As she spoke to him Mr. Cole heard her voice and put his head out of one of the studio windows. “Good morning,” he said. “Come aboard. I’m just getting my things ready.”