“No, the river.”
“Oh!” they joined him and found themselves on the shore of a little cove, but it was shallower than the one they had left the boat in and was quite empty of craft. Chub sat down on a rock and sighed.
“How beautiful is Nature!” he murmured.
“I’ll swap my interest in it for a cup of coffee and a slice of bread,” answered Dick, morosely. “I’m going to see if I can find the boat.”
“Don’t go,” begged Chub. “Sit here beside me on this downy couch and let us view the prospect o’er.”
“I’ll wager we’re too far down the river,” said Roy, inattentively. “Let’s go that way. From that point there we ought to be able to see the boat.”
“Lead on,” cried Chub. “We place ourselves in your hands.”
They skirted the cove and reached the point, but although from there they could see several hundred yards up the shore, there was no sight of either another cove or the Slow Poke.
“I guess we’re too far upstream, after all,” said Roy. “Let’s look the other way.”
