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After dinner Dick appeared and Chub solved the mystery of the wicker trunk. The entire household gathered in the back hall while he displayed his treasures.

“What do you say to those?” asked Chub, pulling four sofa cushions out. “They’ll be just the thing for the window-seat in the forward cabin, eh?”

“We’ve got pillows for that window-seat,” said Dick.

“How many?” asked Chub, scathingly. “About six! We need a lot. Mother said I could have these just as well as not for the summer, so I bagged them. And look here! Camp-stools, don’t you see? You open them out like—like this—no, like this!—yes, this must be the way they go—how the dickens?—there we are! See? When we don’t need them they fold up out of the way—ouch!” Chub had folded one of his fingers in the operation.

“They’re fine!” laughed Roy. “We can use them on the roof.”

“Upper deck, please,” Dick requested. “What’s the red blanket, Chub?”

“That’s a steamer rug, and it’s a fine one. Feel the warmth of it. I thought maybe we’d want extra covers some time. And there’s an old foot-ball—”