o'clock?"

"Oh, I knew we were going to the dam, all right. I give in. But if
I've got to go where I don't want to, I'm going to have the boat to
fish from."

"As if you didn't always have it!" snorted Frank. "The only one who
fishes in one place all day, but he's got to have the boat--and
forgets himself and walks right off it the minute he gets a real
bite. Huh!"

Tod paid no attention to this insult. He and Jerry settled in their
places at the oars, with Frank at the stern for ballast, and Dave up
ahead to watch the channel, for Plum Run, unbelievably deep in
places, had a trick of shallowing at unlikely spots. More than once
had the _Big Four_ had her paint scraped off by a jagged shelf of
rock or shoal.

They were all in their places, the luggage stowed away, and Frank
was ready to push away from the dock, when he raised his hand and
said instead: "Understand me, boys, I'm the last one in the world to
kick--you know me. But there's one request I have to make of you
before the push of my fingers cuts us off from the last trace of
civilization."

"'Sw'at?" cried the three.

"When we have embarked upon this perilous voyage, let no mournful
note swell out upon the breeze, to frighten beasts and men--and
fish--into believing that Dave Thomas is once more _trying_ to