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92 “Where’ll we eat our meals?” Roy asked. They looked at each other in perplexity.

“Mr. Cole ate in the after cabin,” said Chub, finally, “but there isn’t room there with those two cots set up.”

“I tell you,” said Dick. “While we’re alone we’ll take the cots out of the after cabin and use it for a dining-room. Roy can have the cot in here and I’ll sleep on the window-seat. Chub can have the bedroom; he’s captain, you know.”

“That’s a good scheme,” answered Roy, “but how about when the others come?”

“Oh, we’ll fix it somehow. Besides, maybe they won’t come. We haven’t heard a word from Harry yet.”

“Well, the letter had to be forwarded from Ferry Hill to her aunt’s, I suppose,” explained Roy. “We’ll probably hear from her to-day or to-morrow. Half the time we’ll be tied up to the shore, any way, and we can easily enough set that little table on the ground.”

“Maybe there’d be room for it on the rear deck,” suggested Dick. “Kind of under the stairs, you know. Let’s go and see.”

A survey of the space showed that the plan was