The launch was awaiting them in the freight-shed and they spent a
busy half hour getting it out of its crate and into the water. For
the latter task they enlisted the services of two employees of the
wharf. When she was finally afloat she proved to be a very pretty
little boat. She was sixteen feet long and four feet five inches broad,
open the entire length save for a little triangle of deck at the bow
and a corresponding space at the stern. She was painted green below
and black above the water-line, and buff inside. The engine, of two
horse-power, was placed well toward the stern, and in front of it was
a cross seat with cushions covered with something that wasn’t leather
but that looked rather like it if you didn’t get too near. Other seats
ran forward on each side to the bow and were similarly attired. There
was a neat brass steering-wheel, brass flag-sockets, brass cleats and
a round disk of brass let into the forward deck which puzzled them all
until investigation proved it to be the inlet to the gasolene tank.
“That’s so,” muttered Dick, “we’ve got to have gasolene, haven’t we?”
“Well,” Chub answered, “you might get along with tomato catsup or witch
hazel, but gasolene launches seem to take to gasolene better than to
anything else.”
“You run away,” said Dick. “Only thing is, I don’t know how much the
stuff costs or where you buy it. I’ve only got about three dollars with
me.”
But inquiry solved the matter for them. Gasolene could be bought at
the next wharf above and the cost of it was only about twenty cents a
gallon. Roy stuck his head through the little door under the forward
decking and reported that the tank, according to his belief, would
hold only some ten gallons. Dick sighed with relief. One of the
freight-handlers took a great interest in them and their boat and
proved invaluable, producing a rope with which to tie the boat up
to the wharf, giving them the address of a man who could make flags
and poles to occupy the fascinating sockets and lending practical
assistance when, presently, they started to get the engine to running.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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