Part 10 (1/2)

That was the only near approach to a collision, though the river was unusually crowded that morning. In a little while, however, the water traffic thinned out, and Cora did not have to devote so much attention to the wheel.

”Say, isn't it time for lunch now?” demanded Walter, insinuatingly.

”It's only eleven,” announced Belle, with a look at her wrist watch.

”That's his regular feeding time-at least he'll say so,” put in Jack, before his chum had a chance to answer.

”I had an early breakfast,” put in Walter in extenuation.

”Oh, well, give the child something,” laughed Bess, ”and let us have peace!”

Sandwiches, cake and other things were brought out, set on a table which unfolded from the side of the boat, and the merry chatter was soon interspersed with periods of silence to allow a chance to eat.

”We'll get there in good season,” Cora was saying, when the engine gave a sudden combined cough, wheeze and sneeze, and stopped.

”No gasoline!” cried Walter.

”Indeed not!” answered Cora. ”Both tanks are full.”

”Ground wire broken,” suggested Paul.

A hasty look at the conductors proved this theory to be wrong.

”Then it's the carburetor,” Jack affirmed. ”The worst possible place for trouble. I'll look after it, Sis. I've had the dingus apart, and if anybody knows about its insides I do. Throw that anchor overboard, Wally, and I'll tinker with the troublemaker.”

A small anchor splashed into the river, while Jack, putting on an old jumper and overalls, kept for such emergencies, took off the carburetor and proceeded to examine it, from cork float to b.u.t.terfly valve.

”Must be poor gasoline they're serving us lately,” he said. ”It's awfully dirty. Look!” and he held up his grimy hands.

”Have you found the trouble?” Cora asked.

”Yes, it was the air intake valve. Little speck of carbon in it prevented the proper mixture. I'll have it fixed in a jiffy.”

Jack proved the truth of his a.s.sertion by replacing the carburetor, and, a little later, by starting the engine without any trouble.

”Hurrah!” cried Paul. ”That's what it is to have a good mechanician aboard.”

”It's a wonder you wouldn't qualify yourself,” said Jack grimly. ”Look at me! I'll have to take a bath!” and he held up his hands, grimier than ever.

”There's some of that mechanic's soap-with pumice stone in it-in one of the lockers,” volunteered Cora. ”Use that, Jack.”

The anchor was hauled in and the _Corbelbes_ started up the river once more. Jack knelt down on one side of the stern deck, and, reaching down into the river, wet his hands, rubbing on them some pasty soap, guaranteed to remove grime of all kinds and leave most of the original skin.

”Where's the camera?” asked Bess.

”What for?” demanded her sister.

”I want a view of Jack at his bath. Doesn't he look cute?”