“Yes, and it would be a dandy afternoon to do no painting at all,” answered Chub. “Let’s go out in the launch and bum around up and down the river. Let’s go over to Coleville and make faces at Hammond. By the way, I wonder if Mr. Cole comes from Coleville.”
Dick finally allowed himself to be persuaded that it would do them more good to take a sail than to paint, and so they all four piled into the _Pup_ and, as Chub put it, went barking around for an hour or more, Harry serenely happy at being allowed to take the wheel and steer, Snip fast asleep in her lap. Harry reverted to the subject of the birthday party that they were to give her and begged them not to forget to invite the Licensed Poet.
“We won’t,” said Chub. “And, say, why not ask the Floating Artist, too?”
“That’ll be lovely!” cried Harry, laughingly. “A Licensed Poet and a Floating Artist for supper!”
“That’s all right,” answered Dick, “but I’d rather have a Broiled Beefsteak.”
“I have an idea,” remarked Chub, “that the Licensed Poet won’t be able to accept.”
“I think he’s going to be busy Thursday night.”
“Well, I don’t know just what,” answered Chub mysteriously, “but something.”
And although they tried their best to make him explain he only shook his head and frowned darkly at the passing shore.
It turned off quite cool that evening toward sunset, a stiff breeze blowing up the river, snapping the flag at the top of the pole and sending the smoke from the stove swirling away in sudden gusts. They lighted the camp-fire early and, although the “dining-room” was sometimes invaded by choking gray fumes that made them cough and set their eyes to smarting, the warmth was grateful. Scarcely had the things been cleared up when there came a mighty hail from Inner Beach:
They answered, and the big form of the Floating Artist, as Chub insisted on calling him, arose into sight over the bank, looking bigger than ever against the golden haze of sunset. Jack was with him, trotting demurely at his heels. Of course Snip was thrown into a fit of terrible excitement and had to dance around and bark wildly for the ensuing minute. But at last order was restored in camp, Snip silenced, Mr. Cole installed on an empty box that creaked loudly whenever he moved, and Jack was lying at Harry’s side with his head in her lap.
