“I guess I can get ten on that, all right,” remarked Pepper.

“And tie four of the following knots:  Reef, sheet-bend, clove-hitch, bow line, middleman’s, fisherman’s, sheepshank,” finished Rand.

“We can pass on that all right,” commented Pepper.  “Say, what time is it?  I begin to feel as if I would like a bite—­one of the other kind.  Don’t you think we have fish enough?”

“Do you think so?” asked Don gravely.  “Better look them over and be sure.  The rest of us may want some, you know.”

“Oh, I guess there is enough to go around,” replied Pepper, with a laugh.  “I am not so bad as that.”

“Well, if you are sure there are enough,” said Rand, “we might go on shore and do some cooking.  I say, pull up the anchor, Jack, and you needn’t go after it, you know.”

“Oh, just as you say,” replied Jack, hauling up the kedge.

CHAPTER V

OUT OF THE RIVER

“Here comes the Dart,” announced Jack, as a hoarse whistle sounded down the river.  The anchor had, by this time, been lifted into the boat and they had started to row toward the shore.  “She has a whistle like an ocean liner.”

“You want to look out for the swell,” warned Pepper, “she kicks up a bigger swell than any other boat on the river.”

“As big as the Hudson or Fulton?” asked Donald.  “Why, they are half a dozen times as big as she is.”

“She isn’t one-eighth their size,” replied Jack, “but she has got more power, for her size, than any of them.  She has three smokestacks like the Fulton.  Just see her come!”

The Dart, a long, low, white yacht, was coming up the river at full speed, the water curling away from her bow in a miniature cascade, the powerful engines driving her through the water with the speed of an express train.

“Gee!” cried Pepper, “look at her come.  Say, she’d make Fulton with the Clermont think he was traveling backward if he was here.  She is sure some boat.”

“Who owns her?” asked Donald.

“She belongs to Mr. Whilden,” replied Jack.  “He is president of the Dart Motor-cycle Company, you know.”

“Gee!” cried Pepper, “I wish he was my uncle, or something.”

“What for, Pepper?” queried Rand.  “Want him to invite you to go yachting?”

“That wouldn’t be bad,” affirmed Pepper, “and maybe if he liked my looks he might take a fancy to me and give me a cycle.  Say, fellows, wouldn’t it be great if we all had motor-cycles!”

“In my opinion,” interjected Donald, “’tis just a waste of time wishing for what ye’ll no get.”

“Oh, there is no harm in wishing,” returned Pepper.  “You might just as well wish for a big thing as a little one.”

“Just look at the wave following her,” interrupted Jack.  “It must be more than five feet higher than the level of the river.  We will have to keep head on if we don’t want to be swamped.”