That’s the reason I’ll never trust a gentle breeze. In books you find all kinds of nice things about gentle breezes, but look out for them, that’s what I say. Whenever I leave my bathing suit on the grass to dry, I lay a good big rock on it, you can bet. I’d trust Skinny with a hundred dollars, I would, and Westy too, but gentle breezes—Nix. They’re so plaguy sly and sneaky like.

Westy and I went and bought a dandy copy of Treasure Island for the library. It cost us a quarter more than my two dollars, but we should worry.

Now I have to tell you one other thing that happened before we got started on our cruise, especially because it has a lot to do with our cruise.

The next morning we all went back to Northside Woods to tie up the saplings and drag them over to the river. Then we were going to use a rowboat and tow them down and maybe float some of them down. I told you about our old launch, but it’s too shallow to use a launch up as far as Northside Woods.

All the fellows were there except Skinny, because the doctor made him stay home on account of being all played out. I bet that doctor had some scrap with him. One thing sure, Westy and I stuck together. By noontime we had all the stuff hauled over to the river and some odds and ends of kindling wood besides, to take in the house-boat.

We filled the rowboat with the small stuff and towed the saplings and started downstream that way. The tide was running up and it was almost full and we had some job bucking it. Some of the fellows wanted to wait till it turned and come down with it. But I said that would be an hour maybe and that if the tide didn’t want to turn and go with us, we should worry.

Now that there wasn’t anything left to do, but tow the stuff down, all the fellows except Westy and I and Pee-wee started to hike it home. We said we’d take him with us in the boat so that he could bail, because that boat is built like a sieve.

“If it keeps on leaking like that,” I said, “there won’t be any water left in the river—it’ll all be in the boat.”

“It’s pretty hard bucking the tide,” Westy said.

“And we’re going up hill besides, too,” I told him; “remember that.”

Well, you should have seen Pee-wee. “What are you talking about—up hill!” he shouted.

“When we begin going down hill,” I said, all the while winking at Westy, “she’ll go easier, thank goodness.”

“We’ll have to put on the brakes,” Westy said. “Do you know why they talk about towing lumber?” I asked Pee-wee; “because it’s measured by the foot.”

“You’re crazy!” he shouted.

“Just the same as when they use it for back fences, it’s measured by the yard,” Westy said, all sober like.

“Sure—back—yard,” I said.

“You think you can jolly me, don’t you?” Pee-wee shouted.

“You just keep on bailing,” I said, “and don’t stop. When the tide begins turning you won’t have to bail so fast.”

Jiminy, Pee-wee didn’t know what to think—whether I was kidding him or not. “Why won’t I?” he wanted to know.

“Because it will be going the other way,” I said, “see? It’ll be flowing away from the boat.”

Oh, boy! Pee-wee just emptied the bailing can down my neck.

And that’s the way it was all the way down. Cracky, but we had Pee-wee so crazy that he’d bail up a can of water out of one end of the boat and empty it in the other end.

“What’s the difference whether it’s inside or outside?” Westy said, “as long as it’s there. I bet there’s a lot of canned salmon in this river.”

“Canned what?” Pee-wee shouted.

“Keep on bailing,” I said; “canned salmon is what he said, but I think there are more pickled herrings. There’s lots of pickled herrings in the Hudson, I know that.”

“You mean smoked herring,” Westy said, all the while rowing and looking around very sober like at me.

Oh, boy, didn’t Pee-wee open his eyes and stare! He didn’t know whether to take it for a joke or not—we were so serious.

“I suppose it’s on account of the smoke from the big Hudson River boats,” I said, “just the same as Oyster Bay.”

“What about Oyster Bay?” Pee-wee shouted.

“When the water gets all stewed up in rough weather, they get stewed oysters.”

“Not always,” Westy said.

“No, but most of the time,” I said.

“Oh, sure,” Westy said, “but I’ve seen lots of red lobsters that didn’t come from Red Bank——”

“It’s boiling makes them red; you big galook!” Pee-wee yelled.

“Oh, sure,” I said, not paying any attention to him, but all the while rowing hard and looking around very sober like at Westy, “because I know there are lots of bluefish caught near Greenland and you’d think by rights they ought to be green.”

“Sure,” Westy said, “just the same as the fish caught in American River out west, are red, white and blue.”

“And stars,” I said.

“Sure the river’s full of starfish and striped mackerel—stars and stripes. That’s why you have to stand up in the boat if you’re rowing on that river.”

“Oh, sure,” Westy said, “that’s why so many boats get upset.”

Good night! you should have seen Pee-wee.

“Keep on bailing, kiddo,” I said, “keep plenty of water in the river.”

“Maybe it would be better to let a little more come into the boat,” Westy said, “so as to lower the water in the river, so we can get under the bridge.”

“The both of you make me tired!” Pee-wee yelled; “do you think I believe all that stuff?”

Good night, some circus! It’s always that way when Westy and I get out with Pee-wee.

Pretty soon we heard a loud whistling and we wondered what it was, because it didn’t sound like a train and it sure wasn’t on a motor-boat.

Then Westy began asking what we were going to do about power after we got our stanchions and bumper-sticks and all that fixed. I said we’d have to get Jake Holden to tow us down around into the Hudson and then get somebody to tow us up. Westy said Mr. Ellsworth thought it would be cheaper to take our little three horsepower engine out of our launch and install it in the houseboat.

I said, “That would be all right, only it would kick us along so slow that we’d spend all our vacation on the trip and wouldn’t have any time at camp.” Cracky, I didn’t want to start back as soon as we got there.

“Well, then, there’s only one thing to do,” Westy said, “and that’s for us to get towed and that costs a lot of money.”

All the while the whistling kept up and it was awful loud and shrill, sort of, as if it was mad—you know how I mean.

“I know what it is,” I said; “it’s somebody waiting for the bridge to be opened.”

“Good night, they stand a tall chance,” Westy said.

“It’s a tug, that’s what it is,” Pee-wee said; “I can see the smoke. It’s going up in a big column.”

“It’s more than a column, its a whole volume,” Westy said, looking around. “There must be books on that boat; the smoke is coming out in volumes.”

All the while we were getting nearer to the bridge and it was easier rowing, because the tide was on the turn.

Now maybe if you fellows that read this don’t live in the country where there’s a river, you won’t understand about tides and bridges and all that. So I’ll tell you how it is, because, gee, we’re used to all that, us fellows.

Jimmy Van Dorian, he lives right near the bridge in a little shanty and he’s lame and he’s a bridge tender. You don’t get much for being a bridge tender and mostly old veterans are bridge tenders. Anyway, they don’t get much out our way, because big boats don’t come up and they don’t have to open the bridge often.

When we got down to the bridge we saw that the tide was right up so we even had to duck our heads to get under, and right on the other side of the bridge was a tugboat standing facing upstream and its whistle was screeching and screeching just like a dog stands and barks when he’s mad. It seemed awful funny because it was a small tug and it made so much noise.

“It ought to be named the Pee-wee,” Westy said.

“Nobody’s paying much attention to it,” I told him.

Just as we came under the bridge we could see a big fat man, oh, Christopher, wasn’t he fat, standing up in the pilot house pulling and pulling the whistle rope, for the bridge to open. Sometimes he’d pull it very fast, just like you do with the receiver on the telephone when you’re good and mad because Central don’t answer. And it was pretty near as bad as the telephone, too, because he went on tooting and tooting and tooting and nobody paid any attention to him.