I began to get extremely tired
and rather exasperated at Bill for not having thought of the return trip
before he led me such a hot pace up the canal. But Bill was getting tired,
too.
"Look here, Jim," he said, "we haven't covered a mile, and I'm worn out."
"Why in thunder didn't you think of this before we started?" I returned.
"How much money have you with you?" was the reply.
"What's that got to do with it?"
"I'll tell you in a minute. How much have you?"
A careful search of my dozen odd pockets netted the sum of twenty-seven
cents.
"I have fifty-nine," said Bill, "and that makes eighty-six altogether,
doesn't it? Isn't there a railroad depot near here?"
"There is one at Raven Hill, and the next is at Lumberville. That is about
eleven miles from home."
"Well," said Bill, "at three cents each per mile that would amount to
sixty-six cents. Let's sail on to Lumberville and then take the train
back."
On we sped to Lumberville, only to find that the next train was not due
until noon, and it was now just half past ten.
Time never hung heavy on our hands. Out on the river we espied an island.
I had heard of this island--Willow Clump Island, it was called--but had
never been on it; consequently I fell in with Bill's suggestion that we
make it a visit.
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