“Oh, he’s all right,” said Chub. “I haven’t anything against him, only I do think he’s had a rather eventful life, so to speak. He seems a pretty decent chap, though.” By this time the launch had passed Lookout, having practically completed the circuit of the island, and Dick turned off the switch and stopped the engine. The launch floated softly into the smooth water of Victory Cove and Dick turned its nose to the beach. Then, with a little grating sound the bow slid up on the sand and Roy, painter in hand, jumped ashore. “That rope belongs to the fellow at the wharf, by the way,” said Dick. “I must take it back to him. I’ll have to get some rope of my own. And I need some tools, and an oil-can, and an anchor and lots of things!” “How about an engineer?” asked Chub slyly. Dick looked hurt and made no reply, and when they were out on the beach Chub threw an arm over his shoulder and playfully squeezed his neck. “Don’t be a chump, Dickums,” he said. “I was only fooling. You got the hang of it finely.” Dick looked mollified. “It takes a while to learn,” he said, “but I bet I’ll be able to run that boat to the Queen’s taste in a week.” “Of course you will,” answered Chub heartily. Then they set about getting dinner. Chub declared that he could taste gasolene in everything, but Dick was able to prove that he had washed his hands well before beginning the cooking and so Chub’s assertion was received with contempt. From where they sat they could see the launch. Dick had shoved her off after making the painter fast to a tree and now she was floating motionless on the mirror-like surface of the cove. Dick’s glances sought her frequently during dinner, and presently he said: “I wish they had painted her white instead of black.” “It would have been much prettier,” agreed Harry. “We could paint her ourselves,” said Chub. “It wouldn’t be much of a job.” “That’s so. I’ll get some paint the next time we go to the Cove and we’ll do it. We’d have to haul her out, though, I suppose.” “No, we wouldn’t,” answered Roy. “I’ve seen them paint boats in the water. You get a weight, like a big rock or something, and put it on one side of the boat and that raises the other side out of the water. You only have to paint to the water-line, you know. Then when you’ve done one side you change the weight over and do the other side. It’s easy.” “All but getting the weight out there,” said Chub. “We can find a big stone and put it in the rowboat and take it out to the launch,” said Dick. “Yes, we could do that all right,” agreed Chub. “By the way, Dickums, what are you going to call her? I’ve thought of a dandy name!” “I dare say,” answered Roy sarcastically. “The ‘Thomas Eaton,’ I’ll bet.” “You wrong me,” said Chub. “Besides, I wouldn’t allow my name to be associated with such a badly-behaved boat as that.” “I think she behaves beautifully!” exclaimed Harry. “You saw her at her best,” said Chub. “She acted all right after the Engineer-Poet got at her.”