The school term was over, but Dr. Theopilus Wise, the principal of the Academy, had arranged to continue it for a portion of the summer, not in the Academy, but in a camp on the river where the boys would have plenty of open air, exercise, relaxation, and all the fun they wanted, besides doing a certain amount of school work to keep them from getting rusty as they expressed it.

The summer school was to begin its session in a short time, and, meanwhile, Jack remained at the Academy instead of going home, some distance away in another county, giving his attention to certain matters in which he was interested.

He had done work for the editor of a weekly paper of a town on the river, the nearest large town to the Academy and was well known in the place besides, having many acquaintances there among business people.

Being fond of the water, and knowing that many of the boys would have boats of one kind or another, but mostly motors, Jack had already looked about him, and had already not only formed his plans, but had put some of them in operation.

Leaving Percival, who was his principal chum among the Hilltop boys, Jack went on his wheel to Riverton, the town nearest to the Academy, and called in at the office of the News where he found the editor, Mr. Brooke, pecking away at a typewriter in his sanctum, using two fat fingers only in doing his writing rather than all of them as an expert would do.

Brooke had learned to use the machine in that way, however, and would adopt no other, although he had been shown by Jack, who was a rapid writer on a machine, and could compose on it, that he could do much faster work by the other method.

“How do you do, Sheldon?” said Brooke, looking up.  “Got any news?”

“What are you going to do with that little gasolene engine that you used to run your little presses with?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know, sell it, I guess.  It isn’t good for much except junk.”

“How much do you want for it?”

“Oh, you can have it if you think you can do anything with it,” said the editor carelessly.

“No, I don’t want it for nothing.  I’ll pay you for it.”

“What are you going to do with it?  It’s too little to run any but the small presses.  Ain’t going to start a paper, are you?”

“No.  I can fix it up so as to make it do good work.  I want to put it in a motor-boat.”

“It might do for that, and if you can fix it up you’re welcome to it.  You have a mechanical bent, I know, and I guess if any one can fix it up, you can.  Well, say ten dollars.”

“All right.  It will cost me another ten to put it in shape, but after that it will do all right.  Will you deliver it to a man that I send after it?  I’ll take it down to the Riverton shops and work on it.  They let me tinker things there whenever I want to.”

“Certainly.  Send an order, and I’ll let the man have it.”