When I say that Chub arrived “bag and baggage,” I mean every word of it.

It was a delightful afternoon—July was almost a week old—and Roy, pausing before his front door and fumbling for his latch-key, looked westward along the street into a golden haze of sunlight. And as he looked, suddenly there appeared, huge and formless in the sunset glow, something that arrested his attention. For a moment he couldn’t make it out, but presently, with a rattle of wheels, it drew near and resolved into a “four-wheeler” piled high with luggage. It pulled up at the curb before the door, and Chub leaped out, bringing with him numerous packages.

“Hello,” greeted Roy; “come to spend the rest of your days with us? Why didn’t you bring the grand piano? Or is it in the big trunk there?”

Chub grinned and directed the transfer of his belongings from cab to house. There was a small steamer trunk, a whopping wicker trunk, a suit case, a case containing fishing rods, a case containing a shot-gun, three brown paper parcels, an umbrella, and a rain coat. The largest trunk was placed in the rear hall down-stairs, but the other things were carried up to Chub’s room. And when the confusion was over and the cabman, liberally rewarded, had rattled away, Chub deigned to explain.

“Isn’t that a raft of stuff?” he asked, throwing himself into a chair. “You see, Roy, after I’d got all packed up I came across two or three things I thought would be nice for the boat, and as there wasn’t time to do anything else, I just wrapped them up and brought them along. That big bundle is a corn and asparagus boiler, and—”

“A what?”

“Corn and asparagus boiler. It’s a great thing. I found it in the kitchen cupboard. It’s sort of oblong, you know, and there’s a tray that lifts out with the corn on it when it’s done. You see, we’re likely to have a lot of green corn and I was pretty sure we didn’t have anything big enough to cook it in. Good idea, wasn’t it?”

“Splendid!” said Roy. “Did they know you were taking it?”

“They do by this time,” laughed Chub. “I forget whether I made any special mention of it. There were so many things at the last moment, you see. That littlest bundle is a barometer. Every boat ought to have a barometer, so I borrowed it from the front porch. And the other—”

“Oh, you needn’t tell me,” sighed Roy. “I know what’s in that. It’s a sewing machine.”

“You run away and play! It’s a pair of white canvas shoes. I found them after the trunks had gone and there wasn’t room for them in the bag.”

“And, without wishing to appear unduly inquisitive,” said Roy, “may I ask what the large trunk down-stairs contains? You said it wasn’t the piano, I believe?”

“I’ll show you after dinner,” answered Chub. “I’ve got a lot of useful things in there. What time is it? After six? Then I must wash off some of this dust. My! it was a grimy old trip.”

“It must have been. How are the folks?”

“Splendid! They’re getting ready to go to the Water Gap. My, but I’m glad I don’t have to go too! I suppose, though, I’ll have to go there for a while in September. Is the boat done yet? Have you seen it?”

After dinner Dick appeared and Chub solved the mystery of the wicker trunk. The entire household gathered in the back hall while he displayed his treasures.

“What do you say to those?” asked Chub, pulling four sofa cushions out. “They’ll be just the thing for the window-seat in the forward cabin, eh?”

“We’ve got pillows for that window-seat,” said Dick.

“How many?” asked Chub, scathingly. “About six! We need a lot. Mother said I could have these just as well as not for the summer, so I bagged them. And look here! Camp-stools, don’t you see? You open them out like—like this—no, like this!—yes, this must be the way they go—how the dickens?—there we are! See? When we don’t need them they fold up out of the way—ouch!” Chub had folded one of his fingers in the operation.

“They’re fine!” laughed Roy. “We can use them on the roof.”

“Upper deck, please,” Dick requested. “What’s the red blanket, Chub?”

“That’s a steamer rug, and it’s a fine one. Feel the warmth of it. I thought maybe we’d want extra covers some time. And there’s an old foot-ball—”

“What’s that for?” asked Roy.

“Oh, we may want to kick it around some time when we’re ashore. It’ll be something to do. And this is an old sweater; I thought I’d just bring it along. And here’s a small ice-cream freezer. It only makes a quart, but that’ll be enough, I guess. And that’s a bag of salt. Mother thought I might as well bring it as buy new.”

By this time the audience was frankly hilarious.

“But do you know how to make ice-cream, Chub?” asked Mrs. Porter.

“Oh, anybody can make ice-cream,” he answered carelessly. “You just mix some cream and sugar and flavoring stuff up and freeze it. I’ve seen our cook do it lots of times. Here’s my electric torch. That’ll be handy, you’ll admit. And here’s a collapsible bucket. It’s great! I saw it in a store window one day. See how it folds up when you aren’t using it? That’s a box of soap; I knew you fellows would forget to put soap on your list.”

Neither Dick nor Roy had anything to say; they had forgotten.

“Those are some books I want to read. Have you read that one, Roy? It’s a thriller! Take it along with you. It’ll keep you awake half the night. These old trousers I thought might come in handy in case anyone fell in the water.”

“Dear me!” exclaimed Roy’s mother. “You don’t expect to fall overboard do you?”

“No, Mrs. Porter, but you never can tell what will happen,” replied Chub, wisely. “Those are shells for the shot-gun and that’s my fly-book. I should think we might find some good fishing, eh? Here’s a ‘first aid’ case. Mother insisted on my bringing that. I don’t know what’s in it, but I suppose there’s no harm having it along. Here are some curtains; I used to have them in my room until they got faded. I thought maybe we’d find a place for them. And this is an extra blanket. I just put it in so that the bottom of the trunk would be soft. And a hair pillow; it’s rather soiled, but that’s just shoe-dressing I spilled on it once. The laundress couldn’t get it all out. And I guess that’s all except this thermometer. Oh, the mischief! The plaguey thing’s broken! Throw it away. It was just a cheap one, anyhow. There, that’s the lot. What do you say?”

“I don’t know how we’d have got along without those things, Chub,” said Roy, very, very earnestly. “How we could have expected to go on a cruise without a foot-ball and a hair pillow and a collapsible bucket—”

“And a pair of old trousers and a thermometer,” added Dick.

“I don’t see. Do you Dick?” Dick shook his head gravely.

“We must have been crazy,” he said, sadly.

“Oh, you say what you like!” responded Chub. “You’ll find that all these things will come in mighty handy before we get back.”

“Of course,” said Roy, “even if we have to load them in another boat and tow it along behind.”

“Oh, get out; there’s plenty of room for this truck. You fellows are just jealous because you didn’t think of them.”

“I quite approve of the ice-cream freezer,” remarked Mr. Porter, “but I don’t just see how you’re going to work it without the dasher.”

“What!” exclaimed Chub. “Didn’t I put that in?”

“Well, I don’t see it anywhere; do you?” Then followed a wild search for the dasher. At last Chub gave it up and looked a trifle foolish.

“I remember now,” he muttered. “I took it out of the can so that it wouldn’t rattle around. I—I must have forgotten to pack it.”

He joined good-naturedly in the laugh that arose.

“Anyhow,” he said presently, “I dare say we can get along without ice-cream. It’s a bother to have to freeze it. And maybe we can use the tub as a bucket and keep something in the can; we could keep our milk in it.”

“I imagine that most of the milk we’ll have will come in cans,” said Roy. “You don’t expect fresh milk, do you?”

“I surely do. We can buy it at the farm-houses.”

“Condensed milk is cheaper, though,” said Dick, “because you don’t have to use much sugar with it.”

“Listen to Dickums!” jeered Chub. “He’s getting economical!”

It was finally decided to leave the ice-cream freezer behind, and the bag of salt was donated to Mrs. Porter “as a slight testimonial of esteem from the master and crew of the Jolly Roger.” Then the boys went up to Roy’s room and sat there very late, planning and discussing.

The next morning found them at the wharf bright and early, even Chub disdaining for once what he called his “beauty sleep.” The wharf belonged to a company in which Mr. Porter was interested and accommodations for the Jolly Roger had been gladly accorded. She lay in the slip looking very clean and neat. The new coat of paint had worked wonders in her appearance. Each of the boys had brought a suit case filled with things, and Chub carried besides the two camp-stools and a large crimson pillow. And while they are aboard unloading let us look over the house-boat.

At first glance the Jolly Roger looked like a scow with a little one-story white cottage on top, and a tiny cupola at one end of that. The hull was thirty-three feet long and thirteen feet wide and drew about four feet. There was a bluntly curving bow and the merest suggestion of a stern, but had it not been for the white cupola on top, which was in reality a tiny wheel-house, it would have been difficult to decide which was the bow end and which the stern end of the craft. The hull was painted pea-green to a point just above the water-line. Beyond that there was a strip of faded rose-pink, and then a narrow margin of white. The decks were gray, or had been at one time, the house and railings were white and the window and door trimming was green. So she didn’t lack for color.

Small as the boat was she was well built and, in spite of having been in use for several years, was in first-rate condition. It was nothing short of a miracle that so many rooms and passages and cubbyholes were to be found on her. Chub, in commenting on this feature, had said once:

“If you gave this hull to a regular carpenter and told him to build one room and a closet on it he’d be distracted. And if he did do it he’d have the closet sticking out over the water somewhere. But just look what a boat-builder does! He makes three rooms, a kitchen, and an engine compartment, all sorts of closets and cupboards, puts a roof garden and a pilot-house on top and runs a piazza all around it! Why, a fellow I know at home has a little old launch about twenty feet long and six feet wide and I’m blessed if he hasn’t pretty nearly everything inside of her except a ball-room! I’m blamed if I see how they do it!”

On the Jolly Roger, beginning forward, there was a living-room nine feet by ten. There were five one-sash windows in it, two on each side and one in front. Under the front window and running from side to side was a broad window-seat comfortably upholstered and supplied with pillows. Between two of the windows was a bookcase, in one corner was a cabinet holding a talking-machine and records, in the center of the room was a three-foot round table, and three wicker chairs were distributed about. Forward, in front of the window, a tiny spiral stairway of iron led up into the wheel-house above. It had been decided that if Harry and her father or mother joined them, a cot-bed was to be placed in this room, which, with the window-seat, would give accommodations for two persons. The living room gave into a narrow passage which traversed the boat. Across the passage at the other end was a door leading into a little bedroom, nine feet by five. This held a three-foot brass bedstead, one chair, and a lavatory. Above the bed drawers and shelves and a mirror had been built.

Back of the bedroom, opening from the deck, was the engine-room. The engine was of six horse-power and a very good one, in spite of Mr. Cole’s aspersions. The gasolene tank was on the roof above. The Jolly Roger had a guaranteed speed of five miles an hour, but the boys soon discovered that the guaranteed speed and the actual speed didn’t agree by a whole mile. The engine-room had no window but was lighted by a deadlight set in the roof. Beyond the engine-room, on the other side of the boat, was a tiny kitchen, or, as the boys preferred to call it, galley. This opened into the after cabin and was so small that one person entirely filled it. But in spite of its size it was a model of convenience. There was an oil-stove, a sink—you forced water from a tank under the deck by means of a little nickel-plated pump—an ice-chest, shelves for dishes, hooks overhead for pots and kettles, cupboards underneath for supplies and a dozen other conveniences. As Dick said, all you had to do was to stand in front of the sink and reach for anything you wanted. There was a window above the sink and Dick discovered that it was very handy to throw potato peelings and such things out of.

The remaining apartment was a room nine by seven which the owner had used principally to store his painting materials in. Previously it had contained only a cupboard, table, chair, and a small, green chest. But now two cot-beds were established on opposite sides. There wasn’t much room left, but it was quite possible to move around and to reach the galley. This after cabin opened on to the rear deck, about five feet broad, from whence a flight of steps led up to the roof, or, again quoting the boys, the upper deck.

This was one of the best features of the little craft. It was covered with canvas save where panes of thick glass gave light to the rooms below, and was railed all around. Outside the railing were green wooden boxes for flowers. Last summer these had been filled with geraniums and periwinkle and had made a brave showing. And the boys had decided that they would have them so again. Stanchions held a striped awning which covered the entire deck. At the forward end was the wheel-house, a little six by four compartment glassed on all sides, in which was a steering wheel—the boat could also be steered from the engine-room—various pulls for controlling the engine, a rack for charts, a clock, and a comfortable swivel chair. Near the stairs there was a little cedar tender, but this was usually towed astern. Stowed away below were some inexpensive rugs which belonged up here, and three willow chairs and a willow table. A side ladder led from the upper deck to the lower so that one could get quickly from engine-room to wheel-house. Topping the latter was a short pole for a flag. Such was the house-boat Jolly Roger, Eaton, master.

“Tell you what I’m going to do,” said Dick, when they had unloaded their bags and distributed the contents. “I’m going to try the engine. We’d better find out as soon as we can whether she’s going to run.”

“What do you mean?” asked Roy, anxiously. “Go monkeying around here among all these ferry-boats and things?”

But Dick explained that his idea was to keep the boat tied up. So they looked to their two lines which ran from bow and stern and Dick slipped into the engine-room. Presently there was a mild commotion at the stern of the boat which gradually increased as Dick advanced the spark. The lines tightened, but held, and Roy and Chub joined the engineer.

“How does she go?” asked Chub.

“All right,” Dick answered, cheerfully. The engine was chugging away busily and Dick was moving about it with his oil-can. “I didn’t have any trouble starting it. I don’t believe Mr. Cole knows much about engines.” There was a tone of superiority in Dick’s voice that caused the others to smile, recalling, as they did, his own vast ignorance of the subject less than a year ago. The summer before Dick had purchased a small launch and what he now knew of gas engines had been learned in the short space of a few months’ experience chugging about Ferry Hill in the Pup.

“Oh, Mr. Cole always said he didn’t understand that engine,” answered Roy. “Turn her off, Dick, or we’ll break away from the dock.”

“Wait till I see how she reverses,” said Dick.

“Well, start her back easy,” Chub cautioned, glancing anxiously at the lines which held them to the wharf. So Dick slowed the engine down and then threw back the clutch. The Jolly Roger obeyed beautifully, and Dick was finally persuaded to bring the trial to an end. Then they went over the boat again.

“If Harry brings her mother with her,” said Roy, “they’ll have to have this room.” They were in the forward cabin or living room. “We can put up a cot along here for Mrs. Emery and Harry can have the window-seat!”

“That’s all right,” said Chub, “but the only place to wash is in the bedroom. We’ll have to put a bowl and pitcher in here, and a looking-glass, too; ladies can’t get along without a looking-glass.”

“If her father comes with her,” said Dick, “Harry can have the bedroom, Doctor Emery can sleep in here on the cot and one of us fellows can have the window-seat. Then the other two can sleep in the after cabin.”

“Where’ll we eat our meals?” Roy asked. They looked at each other in perplexity.

“Mr. Cole ate in the after cabin,” said Chub, finally, “but there isn’t room there with those two cots set up.”

“I tell you,” said Dick. “While we’re alone we’ll take the cots out of the after cabin and use it for a dining-room. Roy can have the cot in here and I’ll sleep on the window-seat. Chub can have the bedroom; he’s captain, you know.”

“That’s a good scheme,” answered Roy, “but how about when the others come?”

“Oh, we’ll fix it somehow. Besides, maybe they won’t come. We haven’t heard a word from Harry yet.”

“Well, the letter had to be forwarded from Ferry Hill to her aunt’s, I suppose,” explained Roy. “We’ll probably hear from her to-day or to-morrow. Half the time we’ll be tied up to the shore, any way, and we can easily enough set that little table on the ground.”

“Maybe there’d be room for it on the rear deck,” suggested Dick. “Kind of under the stairs, you know. Let’s go and see.”

A survey of the space showed that the plan was quite feasible, especially as Dick volunteered to sit on the railing.

“There’s another thing we’ll have to have,” said Chub, “and that’s a place to wash when Harry’s with us. Suppose we haul that little green chest out here and put a tin basin on it. We could bring water from the kitch—the galley.”

“That’s all right,” laughed Roy, “but why not use your precious folding bucket and dip the water out of the river?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Chub responded. “That’s a good scheme. We’ll hang it on a nail, over the basin.”

“Where the mischief are we going to keep those extra cots when we’re not using them?” Dick asked.

“I found just the place for them,” Chub replied. “We’ll lean them up in the passage beyond the bedroom door and keep the outside door at that end closed. We don’t need to use it anyway.”

Other problems were solved, and then luncheon, which they had brought with them, was spread on the table in the forward cabin and they set to with a will. Before they had finished the florist appeared on the scene with geraniums and periwinkle for the flower boxes. By the time he had transferred the plants from pots to the boxes along the edge of the upper deck, he had managed to mess the new white paint up pretty badly and the boys spent the better part of half an hour cleaning up with water and brushes. By that time it was well toward the middle of the afternoon and they were quite ready to go home.

“If we can get the rest of the supplies in to-morrow morning,” observed Chub as he locked the last door and slipped the key in his pocket, “I don’t see why we shouldn’t start to-morrow after luncheon instead of waiting until the next morning. We could easily get up the river far enough to spend the night. What do you think?”

Both Roy and Dick were quite as eager to get off as he was, and it was agreed that if the groceries arrived in time they would begin their cruise at one o’clock on the morrow. When they reached Roy’s house they found a letter from Harry. Roy read it aloud.

“Well, I’m rather glad it’s the Doctor that’s coming and not Mrs. Emery,” said Dick. “Mrs. Emery is charming and kind, but a man will be less trouble. Hello, what’s the matter with you, Chub?”

Chub was gazing into space with an ecstatic smile on his face.

“Me?” he asked, coming out of his trance. “Nothing! I was just thinking of those pies!”