Louis Arundel - Motor Boat Boys Down the Coast; or, Through Storm and Stress to Florida

"Let's see that queer old packet, Jack," said Herb.

"That's so; give us a squint at it, anyhow," Nick demanded.

So the skipper of the Tramp took the letter out carefully and held it up.

"Excuse me for not passing it around, fellows," he remarked, "but I gave my word it shouldn't go out of my possession until I'd found the party mentioned. From the way the young chap acted, I guess it must be more or less valuable, to him and this same party, anyhow."

"What is the name on the envelope – you can tell me that, can't you?" asked Josh.

"Van Arsdale Spence," replied the bearer of the missive, as he just as carefully replaced it in his pocket.

"Hey! that's the same last name as his, ain't it?" remarked George.

"Spence – yes, and it may be some relation of his, perhaps a brother or father. But, fellows, that's none of our business, remember. Now, let's talk of other things, and forget that little adventure for a time."

Jack generally had his way, and in this case his chums realized that he was certainly right. So they started talking about their immediate plans for the first night out.

"We'll go ashore if we can, boys, and build a rousing fire," said Nick, whose one great delight, outside of eating, was seeing a bonfire burn; and, indeed, he always declared some of his remote ancestors must have been real fire worshippers.

"Yes, that would be a good idea," Jack admitted. "There's no telling how often on this trip we'll find ourselves forced to eat and sleep aboard, so when the opportunity offers we might as well get out to stretch our legs."

"Great scheme," declared Josh, who, being considerably longer than any one of his shipmates, suffered more in consequence of cramped quarters.

"Only one thing wrong," grunted Nick, shaking his head.

"I can guess he's thinking of eating right now," flashed Josh, who knew the symptoms in his companion only too well.

"Well, Mister Smarty, for once you hit the nail on the head," grinned the fat boy. "I just happened to think of something we hadn't ought to have forgotten to fetch along for our first meal."

"What was that?" demanded Jack.

"Why, when I looked over that list of things you got up, Jack, blessed if there was anything else I could think of," said George; "but it takes my mate here to have 'em all in his mind, even if he can't cook like Josh."

"Let's hear what we forgot, then, Nick!" demanded Herb.

"Oysters!" immediately cried the other, triumphantly. "This is the country for the delicious bivalve, I understand, and the season is on. I'd made up my mind some time ago, when this trip was first planned, that I was going to have lots of feasts in that line. When a fellow lives away back on the Mississippi River he gets mighty few chances for real fresh oysters, you know, and I do love 'em so much!"

"And a few more things in the bargain," chuckled Josh, who never could resist a chance to get in a sly dig at his friend.

"Lots of 'em," replied the stout boy, calmly, and without a blush.

"But I thought you understood all about that," remarked Jack. "We expect to pick up all the oysters we want on the way, so there was no use laying in a supply at the start, when we needed room for more important stores."

"Depend on it, Nick, you'll get all the bivalves you want before we're through with this cruise," Herb prophesied.

"Bring 'em on, then," boasted Nick. "I'm ready to tackle a mountain of 'em right off the reel, in the shell or out. Never believed I could get enough oysters. But about what time do we go ashore, boys?"

"He's getting hungry already, I do believe?" cried Josh. "Honest, now, to keep that fellow from complaining, there ought to be a bag of crackers and cheese hung up all the time within his reach, so he could take a snack every hour or two. I reckon those fat legs of his'n must be hollow, for how else could he stow away all the grub he does? He's a regular Oliver Twist, calling for more, more!"

Nick took all this in the best of humor. He even grinned, just as though he might look on it as some sort of compliment.

"I guess I was born hungry, and never got over the complaint," he observed; "but that don't answer my question, Jack. It's near four o 'clock, right now, and it gets dark not a great while after six, you know."

"All right, then; in about another hour we'll think of looking up a creek along the shore, and make a snug harbor. Then for a fire, and a supper, the first of the new cruise," the skipper of the Tramp replied.

"Hear! hear! only another hour to wait," declared Nick, waving his hat exultantly.

"Think you can hold out that long?" demanded Josh.

"I'll try," said Nick, meekly, as he drew an apple from one of his pockets, and proceeded to calmly munch the same.

"I give you my word, boys," said George, solemnly, "that's the seventh he's bit into since we left the dock. Two did for me; and I can see still more bunching up in his pockets. If he gets faint, I'll hand him a cracker box to open. But I've some hopes the apples will be a life preserver."

Jack presently began to increase the speed of the flotilla. He wanted to get as far down the river as possible before being compelled to put up for the night. And having glanced at his, charts, he knew that they must cover a number of miles ere they reached a tributary flowing into the Delaware at this point.

Five o'clock came around at last. Josh remarked that he was pleased to see Nick still holding out, and that he had not wasted away to a mere shadow.

"Now we head in toward the western shore, and keep our eyes on the lookout for the mouth of a creek that ought to be along down here," Jack called out, as he began to gradually alter the course of his boat.

Of course, this pleased them quite a little, as marking a change in the monotony of the afternoon run. And truth to tell, Nick was not the only fellow who enjoyed looking forward to supper time beside a roaring fire.

"Hey! that looks like an opening below us, Jack!" called George, who was in the bow of the Wireless , steering, leaving to Nick the duty of attending to other matters connected with the management of the speed boat, especially its balance.

"You're right, George, that's just what it is, the mouth of the creek; so slow up everybody, and we'll go in."

Impetuous George was the first to turn into the tributary. After running up a short distance, the prospect for a camp not improving, Jack called out:

"It looks as if it might get worse instead of better, so let's stop off here. There are a few trees anyway, and we can get all the wood we need. Head in, George, and make a landing."

Presently all of them stepped ashore. Although their surroundings did not appeal very heartily to lads accustomed to dense timber, with all that implies, still they knew how to make the best of a bad bargain.

Nick began to gather firewood at once, and some of the others helped, so that in a brief time a fire was started that at least made things look a bit more comfortable and home-like, as Nick said, while puffing like a porpoise in his labors.

The cruisers had been securely tied up, since there was no danger of any storm out on the river dashing them against the shore in this peaceful harbor.

Having brought the mess chests ashore, together with what cooking things they needed, the boys began preparations for supper. Many hands make light work, and Jack utilized every one for some purpose. Some laid in a supply of wood, others opened cans, while Josh, being the boss cook of the crowd, took charge of the menu.

Meanwhile night began to settle around them, and with the coming darkness a swarm of insect pests developed.

"Whoop!" cried Nick, as he made his fat arms swing around his head like a couple of old-time flails; "what d'ye call all this, tell me? Every time I open my mouth a dozen hop right in. Talk to me about skeeters, these must be the frisky Jersey brand we've heard so much about."