"Indade an' I begin to belave that same mesilf, fellers. I'm hungry all the time, so I be. It must be in the air. Jack himself is no slouch whin it comes to stowing away things." "That's all right," laughed Josh, seeing a chance to get in one of his favorite digs at Nick; "but I can feel for poor old George. He's tucked in with a cemetery, that devours everything, and keeps yawning for more." And so they talked as they made a fire and prepared supper for the crowd just as the sun hovered over the distant shore to the west. No one came to bother them, for the place was isolated. A railroad ran near by, and during the night they heard numerous trains passing along. But snugly tucked away in their respective boats--much too snugly, Nick believed--they found little cause for complaint. Another dawn found them facing a proposition that offered new possibilities. "Hey! it's raining!" shouted Josh, he being the first one in the little fleet to get outside that morning. But Jack had known this for some time, since he had been awake and heard the patter of the falling drops on the taut canvas awning that covered the main part of the _Tramp_. After a while the boats were allowed to come closer together, while the pilots conferred as to the program for the day. There were one or two feeble protests against starting in the wet; but on putting it to a vote the decision was reached that they must go on. "We're not made of sugar or salt," declared Jack; "and besides, haven't we anticipated just such weather by providing waterproof garments. Everybody get into their oilskins right away, and slap a real old sou'wester on their heads. We can afford to laugh at this poor little storm. Wait till we strike something worth while later on, and then duck." "Yes," put in George, a little maliciously; "we've just got to be moving right along, fellows. Satan always finds mischief for idle hands to do. Buster is supposed to be the deck hand aboard this boat, and when he hasn't anything else to do his mind keeps wandering in the line of eating. Suppose we did get really cleaned out some fine day, am I bound to begin on him for chops?" All this while they were busy dressing, and Nick made the narrow speed boat wabble fearfully with his movements as he drew on his oilskins. "Oh! I tell you I'm just going to be a complete nervous wreck before we get done with this fool race," he complained when he had finally succeeded in donning the wide trousers, the legs of which persisted in sticking together. "Get out and walk then," said George, promptly. "I would if the walking was good," replied Nick; "but it's wet both above and below; and besides I want to give another look around for my precious white wings."