“But we do want to help,” answered Chub eagerly. “That’s just it, don’t you see? That’s why we want you to wait until we can all take a hand at it. When Harry’s here, you see, I can paint too, because she will do the heavyweight act for us.” “Oh, thunder!” muttered Dick, half laughing, half scowling, “you fellows are a pair of squealers, that’s what you are! Hang it, I’ll never get the launch finished!” “Oh, yes, you will,” said Chub soothingly. “Besides, what if you don’t? I should think you’d be proud to have the only half-and-half boat on the Hudson River!” They went in bathing instead, managing to kill the better part of two hours in that occupation. They didn’t go far up Inner Beach for fear of disturbing Mr. Cole, who, with Harry, was plainly to be seen on the roof-deck of the house-boat. But about noon, having dressed themselves, they walked up there. The sitting was over and the picture practically finished, although the artist explained that there was a little more to be done to it. “But he doesn’t want me to sit any more,” said Harry, almost regretfully. “No, that isn’t necessary,” replied Mr. Cole. “The rest can be done any time.” “If I had money enough I’d buy that picture,” declared Chub. “I think it’s dandy. I suppose you get a good deal for one like that?” “Well, that won’t be sold, I guess. If it should, though, I’d want about three hundred for it.” Chub’s eyes hung out of his head. “Three hundred!” he gasped. Then, fearing that the artist would think him discourteous, he added: “I--I guess that’s pretty reasonable.” Mr. Cole laughed. “Well, I don’t think it exorbitant,” he said. “I’ve seen a much smaller canvas than that sell for four thousand.” “Guess I’ll be an artist,” said Chub with a helpless shake of his head. “Want to give me lessons, sir?” “Hardly,” was the reply. “I don’t think you would ever make a Sargent or a Chase; do you?” “Sure,” answered Chub with assurance. “If I learned how I could make them.” When the rest had stopped laughing Roy said: “We’re going to Silver Cove after dinner, Mr. Cole, and we thought maybe you’d like to come along and have a sail in the _Pup_.” “I’d like to first rate,” said the artist, “but I’m going to be busy this afternoon. I’m sorry. Perhaps you’ll let me come some other time, boys.” They assured him that they would be glad to have him whenever it suited him to go, and then they took their departure, Harry accompanying them after a final look at the picture. “Well,” said Dick as they walked back to camp along the beach, “I suppose you’re feeling pretty stuck-up, Harry, since you’ve had your picture painted by a real artist.” “And a Floating Artist at that,” added Chub. But Harry shook her head soberly. “It must be beautiful,” she said softly and wistfully, “to be able to paint pictures like that!”