“Nice folks those,” said Dick, quietly.
“Yes, they are!” murmured Roy.
“Right, oh!” said Chub.
The voyage back to New York was taken in easy stages, for, now that the end was in sight, no one was really anxious to reach it. They stopped when they liked, and started when it pleased them, and had a pleasant, lazy time of it. No incident of moment occurred worth setting down here, unless, possibly, it is a very tiny incident that happened on the second evening of the homeward voyage. Chub was getting ready for bed, and Roy and Dick were standing at his door talking to him, their own disrobement complete. Suddenly Dick pushed his way into the little room and picked up something which was lying face down on the bed beside Chub’s discarded garments.
“Hello!” said Dick. “Where’d you get the photograph, Chub?”
“Here! You put that down!” exclaimed Chub, making a dash for it. But Dick was too quick for him and tossed it to Roy.
“Have a look!” he called, as Chub grappled him.
