done right."

Accordingly Buster was dispatched to market for the party. He made a
fairly decent job of it too; at least they certainly did seem to enjoy
the steak and onions amazingly; and George even condescended to admit
that, under the lash of his reproaches Nick was improving in his
cookery.

"I begin to have hopes of you, Buster," he said, as he lay back after
disposing of his fourth helping, unable to accept the last bite offered
him by the fat boy, who was himself stranded.

"Thanks. I believe myself I am beginning to pick up some. Seems to me
I weigh a pound or so more than an hour ago," grinned Nick, sighing as
he contemplated the small remains of their feast, "though I do hate to
see things go to waste."

"You may say that," remarked George when Buster made such a remark;
"but I don't believe it, judging from the smug way your belt hugs you
just now. I rather think you are fond of seeing things go to waist."

So they sat around and joked as the evening advanced. And the night
passed without any disturbance; although it was a little odd for them
to be so close to a city, and hear the various sounds that floated down
to them in their enclosure below the bluff.

With the coming of morning they were up betimes. Breakfast taken care
of in a little more elaborate manner than customary, on account of
having more time, they considered what they should do waiting for the
coming of the _Comfort_.

George set out to interview the boat builder, and have a mechanic get
to work on his engine without delay. Nick on his part declared he had
business in town, and would ask for any mail that might be waiting for
the party at the general delivery.

They could give a pretty good guess that the fat boy still had the idea
of hunting up another set of those swimming bags, which he hoped to
fasten to his shoulders in times of need.

He came back when it was toward noon. One look at his despondent face
told Jack the stout lad had met with a grievous disappointment.

"Nothing dong, eh, Nick?" he asked.

"A rotten old town, that's what," grumbled the other, as he disgorged
what mail he had fetched with him. "Been to every sporting-goods
establishment in the whole of bally old Memphis. What d'ye think, most
of 'em didn't know what I meant when I asked for swimming wings? They
looked like they thought me loony. One place they used to keep 'em;
but the man said that the boys along the river learned how to swim wh