hundred dollars for the boat--that left another hundred for painting
and remodeling and for other necessary expenses.

Just as Madge was about to close with the man's offer a look from Jack
Bolling interrupted her.

"The boat is not worth a hundred dollars," he declared decisively.
"The young lady will give you fifty dollars for it, and not a cent
more."

The man laughed contemptuously. "I can't do it," he said. "That boat
is cheap at a hundred dollars."

"At fifty, you mean," retorted Jack stubbornly.

The girls stood back quietly and allowed Jack to drive the bargain,
which he did with so much spirit that the coveted boat was at last made
over to him at his price, fifty dollars.

For the rest of the day the four girls spent their time interviewing
carpenters and painters. At last they found a man who promised to
deliver the boat, rebuilt according to Madge's idea, at a little town
several miles farther down the bay. The man owned a motor boat. He
was to take the houseboat to a landing, where the girls could load it
with the necessary supplies, and then to tow them farther down the bay,
until they found the ideal place for their summer holiday.

"I declare, Madge, dear, I was never so tired, nor so happy in my
life," declared Eleanor Butler late that afternoon, as the quartette
were on their way back to their school at Harborpoint. "I can see our