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Every one looked at him as he stood beside the Admiral—such a little boy, with comical, freckled nose and smooth, brown hair. He looked up at his big, stalwart uncle who was reading about him, Johnny Blossom! “The Chief sent me up to wake you. Breakfast is almost over.” “To go as my aide on an official survey of the Labyrinth!”.

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They pulled it into the water and watched with bated breath. It leaked badly and Jerry was disgusted. Bob, however, knowing more about boats than his companion, realized that the long time the boat had been out of water had caused the strips to contract and in all probability a few hours’ soaking would make them tight. Bob had insisted on putting the boat into the water before paying for it and as the water came in more slowly after a few minutes, he was satisfied. They paid the man and he went off after wishing them a rather pessimistic farewell. Bob laughed. “Well, water won’t hurt us. You’re sort of a grouch, aren’t you, Jerry?” he said pleasantly. It was a tactless thing to say, for the other boy shut up like a clam and except as it was absolutely necessary he gave no openings for further conversation. “Oh, because I fought him; because his fishpole got smashed.” Perhaps he might find Lars Berget, who worked in the stable under Carlstrom, but who was always pleasant and had a great deal to tell about the different horses. Why, there was Lars now. Johnny scarcely recognized him in his new black clothes..