“The scheme is simple enough,” said Prescott hurriedly.  “We must each get two dollars, and get it like lightning.  That will come to a dollar over the amount we need, but we shall need the extra dollar, anyway.  So hustle!  Borrow the money from anyone who’ll let you have it.  Offer to work the money out at any time—–­any old kind of work.  The only point is to come running back with the money.  Get it in any honest way that you can, and don’t one of you dare to fail, or we’ll lose our deposit money and our canoe.  Start!”

Nor did Prescott lose any time himself, but raced down the street, turned into Main Street and ran on until he came to the little cross street on which stood the bookstore conducted by his father and mother.

“Mercy, Dick!  What makes you run so?” asked Mrs. Prescott.  Dick was rejoicing to discover that there was, at this moment, no customer in the store.

“Mother,” replied her son, “I want to borrow three dollars this minute.  I’ll be responsible for it—–­I’ll pay it back.  Please let me have it—–­in a hurry!”

Then, briefly, he poured out the story.  Mrs. Prescott’s hand had already traveled toward the cash register.

“We’re very short of money just now, my boy.  Try to earn this and pay it back quickly.  You know, trade is slow in the summer time, and we have several bills to meet.”

“Yes, I’ll pay it back, mother, at the first chance—–­and I’ll make the chance—–­somehow,” promised young Prescott.  “Thank you.”

The money in his hand, Dick raced back to the lot where the show tent still stood.

He was back before any of the others and waited impatiently.  Dave Darrin came up ten minutes later.

“Did you get it?” asked Dick anxiously.

“Yes,” replied Dave laconically, pushing two one dollar bills into Dick’s hand.

One by one the other boys arrived.  Each had managed to round up his part of the assessment.

With thirteen dollars in his hand, Dick went up to the auctioneer’s clerk.

“I am ready to pay the other eleven dollars on the canoe,” Prescott announced, speaking as calmly as possible.

“All right,” agreed the clerk.  “But you’ll have to find some man you can trust to take the bill of sale.  We can’t pass title to a minor.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Dick demanded.

“That’s all right.  It wasn’t necessary before, but it is now.  Just find some man who will treat you all right and give you the canoe.  Then we’ll take the money and make out the bill of sale to him.”

Fred Ripley now sauntered up, offering his money.  He was given the same directions for finding a man to whom title could pass.

Dick looked about him.  Then across the lot, and over on the further side of the street he saw his father.

Dick returned quickly to the lot with Mr. Prescott, explaining the situation.  The bookseller listened gravely, but offered no objections.  He stepped over, paid the money for Dick, then said: