"Me for a good juicy beefsteak for supper tonight!" exclaimed Nick, after they had found a boatbuilder's establishment, in the enclosed yard of which they could spend the night, their two crafts safely tied to spiles alongside a little wharf. It had been an understood thing that, as a condition of the race, no participant must be guilty of spending a single night under any but a canvas roof. Thus unless in case of sickness, they must not take shelter in a house of any type. Consequently each night must be spent either aboard their respective motor boats, or on shore, with the canopy of heaven for a roof. "Well, for once I'm with you, old chap," grinned George; "and since you're such a good judge of prime steak, I appoint you a committee of one to go forth and forage. But remember that it ought to be an inch thick, and a yard or two long! That's the way I feel right now about it." "Count us in on that deal, too," remarked Jack, looking toward Jimmie, and receiving a quick affirmative nod. "Duplicate the order. And while you're about it, Buster, bring a couple of quarts of nice white onions along." "Oh! my, you're just making my mouth water!" cried the deputy, working his jaws in an energetic fashion. "Why, I've been half starved on this trip, up to now, and something desperate's got to be done soon, if you want my folks to recognize me when I get back home." "All right," said George promptly. "Just you drop that plagued cook book overboard the first chance you get, and take a few lessons from Josh. Then we'll have something that's fit to eat. Just make up your mind that I'm going to stand over you when this royal steak goes into the pan, and see that it's done right." Accordingly Buster was dispatched to market for the party. He made a fairly decent job of it too; at least they certainly did seem to enjoy the steak and onions amazingly; and George even condescended to admit that, under the lash of his reproaches Nick was improving in his cookery. "I begin to have hopes of you, Buster," he said, as he lay back after disposing of his fourth helping, unable to accept the last bite offered him by the fat boy, who was himself stranded. "Thanks. I believe myself I am beginning to pick up some. Seems to me I weigh a pound or so more than an hour ago," grinned Nick, sighing as he contemplated the small remains of their feast, "though I do hate to see things go to waste." "You may say that," remarked George when Buster made such a remark; "but I don't believe it, judging from the smug way your belt hugs you just now. I rather think you are fond of seeing things go to waist." So they sat around and joked as the evening advanced. And the night passed without any disturbance; although it was a little odd for them to be so close to a city, and hear the various sounds that floated down to them in their enclosure below the bluff.