Every one of the guests insisted on signing articles with Captain Chub at once, and it required all of the latter’s tact and diplomacy to ward them off.
“I wish you fellows could come along,” he said, “but you see how it is. We’ve got to go on up to Ferry Hill and get Doctor Emery and his daughter, so there won’t be much room.”
Whereupon one of the more enthusiastic fellows declared that he’d ask nothing better than to sleep on deck, and the other seven echoed him. It required a deal of argument to persuade them of the impracticability of the plan. There was another jolly evening at the big hotel, and then the three bade good-by to their old friends and new, for the Slow Poke was to go on her way again in the morning. But when morning came, they found that they were not to leave unattended, for half a dozen of the fellows had gathered on the landing to see them off and wish them good luck.
“See you in September,” they shouted as the Slow Poke ambled away. “Don’t get arrested for exceeding the speed limit.”
“Stop when you come back, fellows! Don’t forget!”
