"Don't you believe that for a minute," said Fred. "The only time it is necessary for a man to show that he has any grit is when he is in trouble. If there weren't any hard things to be done there wouldn't be any need of a fellow bracing up to do them. If everything was smooth and easy all the time everybody would get along. It's just because the way is a little hard that there's need for us to go ahead. We'll find a way yet, Jack. Come on back to the dock." Neither boy was disheartened when after three or four more attempts to arrange for a passage they found even their strongest pleadings without avail. "We're simply up against it," said John. "And that's the time to go ahead," declared Fred. "Come on and we'll try that fellow yonder." As he spoke he pointed toward a motor-boat at the lower end of the dock on which the boys were standing. The boat was old and greatly in need of paint. A disconsolate appearing individual whom the boys suspected to be the owner, manager, chief stockholder and captain of the little craft sat on the dock swinging his long legs over the water. The boys were able to see that the man had bright red hair and that his face was covered with huge freckles or splotches of a dark, reddish brown hue. He was apparently about thirty years of age, long, ungainly and awkward in his every action. "Let's go see him," suggested Fred. "He doesn't look as if he knew enough to run a boat even to the bottom," responded John, nevertheless joining his friend as they advanced toward the man. "You didn't expect the most intellectual individual in the world to be running a tub like that, did you?" demanded Fred, as they came nearer and obtained a closer view of the peculiar individual. "If he knew more he wouldn't be around here in a worn-out old tub." "Go ahead," laughed John, "I'll leave the interview to you." "I'm glad to see that you have come to your senses at last," declared Fred soberly. "It's a good thing sometimes to know that you don't know." "That's right," retorted John, "and it's better yet not to know so many things that aren't so." "You just listen," said Fred, as he turned toward the stranger who had glanced at the approaching boys and then resumed his former position. "Good morning," called Fred cheerily. "Hey?" answered the man. "I said good morning," repeated Fred striving to speak cheerfully. "I hadn't noticed. Is it?" said the man glancing toward the sky as he spoke. "Most of these mornings up here have been foggy. We have had the worst weather this summer I ever see. Seems to get worse all the time." "Don't you know that Ruskin says there isn't any bad weather? There are just different kinds of good weather." "Ruskin, who's he? I never heard tell o' him." "He doesn't live here at the Sault," acknowledged Fred. "Never mind the weather. What I want to know is can you take us in your motor-boat to Mackinac Island?"