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They perched themselves side by side on the broad window-seat and the artist lifted the heavy chair from the dais with one hand as though it weighed but an ounce and sprawled his great body in it. Jack settled back amongst the cushions with his head on Dick’s knee.

“I guess there isn’t much to tell,” said Roy. “Chub and I have been at college and Dick here is coming up in the fall.”

“If I can pass,” muttered Dick.

“And Miss Harry? How is she?” asked Mr. Cole.

“Fine,” said Dick. “I saw her the other day. We often talk about you, sir, and the good times we had on the Jolly Roger.”

“And so you think you’d like to have more good times on it, eh?” laughed the artist in his jovial roar. “I wish I could go along, if you’d have me; but I’m going across after awhile. But the boat’s yours when you want it, and I hope you’ll have the jolliest sort of a time, boys.”

“It’s mighty nice of you to want us to have it,” said Roy. “We’ll take very good care of it, Mr. Cole, and—”

“Oh, don’t bother about that,” laughed the painter. “You know I’ve got tired of it, boys. Besides, it’s well insured and if it happens to go to the bottom, why, I sha’n’t mind a bit—as long as you get out first! She’s at Loving’s Landing, if you know where that is; about fifteen miles up the river. You’ll find her in good condition, I guess. I wrote the man day before yesterday to open her up and get her in shape. She needs paint, as I wrote you; but I don’t believe I want to go to the expense of having her done over. But if you think you’d rather have her freshened up it won’t cost much to have Higgins put on one coat for you.”