And then there was a big, freckle-faced youth named Globbins who spent most of his waking hours in the driver's seat of a high-powered roadster automobile and who ran the fellows many miles over the roads and was never, seemingly, more contented than when every available inch of the car was occupied.

Its normal capacity was three, but by careful packing it was possible to get seven in, on or about it.

In return, Globbins was entertained aboard the _Adventurer_ and given a thirty-mile cruise one evening, but it was easy to see that he wasn't really enjoying himself and that his hands fairly ached for the feel of that corrugated wheel of the roadster.

They had such a jolly time at Camden that they promised faithfully to stop there again on the return voyage, and really meant to keep the promise when they chugged out of the harbour one crisp morning and turned the cruisers' bows eastward for the run across Penobscot Bay.
They lazed that day, for, as Steve said, it was too fine to hurry.
Dinner was eaten with the two boats side by side, with only fenders between, in a fairy pool.

They found the place quite by accident when exploring the shore of an island whose name they are to this day ignorant of.