The Adventure Club Afloat | Page 8

Corwin might toss up for the privilege of joining the club. "After
all," he added, "we aren't all of us certain that we can go. If one or two
of us drop out there'll be room for Wink and Harry, too."
"Seems to me," said Phil Street, "it might be a good plan to enlarge the
membership to, say, twelve, and let the new members find a boat of
their own. I dare say they could. Then--"
"Fine!" exclaimed Joe. "Harry and his brother have some sort of a
motor-boat. He told me so today. That's a bully idea, Phil! With twelve
of us we could divide up between the two boats--"
"How many will Corwin's boat hold?" asked Neil.
"I don't know. I'll see him and find out. But it ought to be big enough to
hold four, anyway. There are seven of us now, and Wink and Harry and
his brother Tom would make ten, and we could easily pick out two
more."
"Let's make the membership thirteen," said Perry.
"Thirteen!" echoed Han. "Gee, that's unlucky!"
"Rot! Why, you've got thirteen letters in your name. George Hanford."
Perry counted on his fingers. "This is the Adventure Club, isn't it? Well,
starting out with thirteen members is an adventure right at the start!"

"Sure!" agreed Ossie. "Let's take a chance. It's only a silly
what-do-you-call-it anyway."
"Meaning superstition?" asked Steve. "Well, I'm agreeable. Who else
do we want? Bert Alley asked to join, and so did George Browne."
"And Casper Temple," added Joe. "And they're all good fellows. But I
want it distinctly understood that I'm going on the Cockatoo."
"Me too!" exclaimed Perry. "All of us fellows must go on the Cockatoo.
We were the first."
"But suppose Corwin's boat won't hold five?" said Han.
"We can squeeze eight into the Cockatoo, if we have to," said Steve.
"Joe, you cut along and find Corwin and bring him up here. We might
as well settle the thing now."
"All right, but don't settle about the cruise while I'm gone," answered
Joe. "I'll have him here in ten minutes."
When the meeting adjourned that evening the club had added six new
members and enlarged its fleet by the addition of the cabin-cruiser,
Follow Me. It was just half-past ten when Joe and Steve produced the
last of their supply of ginger-ale from under the window-seat and,
utilising glasses, tooth-mugs and pewter trophies, the members present
drank success to the Adventure Club.
CHAPTER III
CAST OFF!
Some two weeks later, or, to be exact, sixteen days, making the date
therefor, the eighth day of July, a round-faced, freckle-cheeked youth in
a pair of khaki trousers, white rubber-soled shoes, a light flannel shirt
that had once been brown and was now the colour of much diluted
coffee and a white duck hat sat on the forward deck of a trim
motor-boat with his feet suspended above the untidy water of a slip. By

turning his head slightly he could have looked across the sunlit surface
of Buttermilk Channel to the green slopes of Governor's Island and,
beyond the gleaming Statue of Liberty. But Perry Bush was far more
interested in the approach that led from the noisy, granite-paved street
behind a distant fence to the pier against which the boat was nestled. As
he watched he sniffed gratefully of the mingled odours that came to
him; the smell of salt water, of pitch and oakum, of paint from a
neighbouring craft receiving her Summer dress, of fresh shavings and
sawdust from the nearby shed whence came also the shriek of the
band-saw and the _tap-tap_ of mallets. Ballinger's Yacht Basin was a
busy place at this time of the year, and the slips were crowded with
sailboats and motor-boats, while many craft still stood, stilted and
canvas-wrapped, in the shade of the long sheds. Perry whistled a gay
tune softly as he basked there in the warm sunlight and awaited the
arrival of the rest of the boat's crew.
Much had happened since that Thursday when they had toasted the
Adventure Club in Steve's and Joe's room in Sumner. Graduation Day
had sent them scurrying homeward. Then had followed much
correspondence with Steve. After an anxious four days, Perry and the
rest had each received a brief but highly satisfactory telegram:
"Cockatoo ours for two months. Meet Ballinger's Basin, Brooklyn,
fourth." But work on the cruiser had delayed the starting date, and they
had now been kicking their heels about New York for four days. Perry
and Phil Street had been taken care of by Steve, and Joe had had Neil,
Han and Ossie as his guests. At Bay Shore, on the south side of Long
Island, the Follow Me was awaiting them impatiently. The Follow Me
had been ready to put to