Mr. Bobbsey came up out of the little motor room after a while, and
watched his wife and Dinah putting things away. The boat was moving
down the lake.

"Oh, look at your face!" suddenly cried Mrs. Bobbsey.

"What's the matter with it?" asked her husband, putting his hand up to
his nose, as almost any person will do when you speak of his face.

"It's all black!" went on Mrs. Bobbsey. "So are your hands. Oh,
Richard! What have you been doing?"

"Learning to run the gasoline engine," he said. "I want to know how it
works so that if we need to start any time when Captain White is on
shore, or asleep, I can do it."

"I hope you won't start off any time when Captain White is on shore,"
said Mrs. Bobbsey. "You don't know enough about a boat to run it
without him."

"Very well, then. I promise I'll run the gasoline engine only when
Captain White is asleep," said Mr. Bobbsey, with a laugh. "And then,
if anything happens, I'll only have to awaken him, and ask him what is
wrong."

"That's the best plan," said Mrs. Bobbsey, also laughing. "And now you
had better go wash your face. Some one might see you--looking like
that."

There was a nice little bathroom aboard the Bluebird, and Mr. Bobbsey