“Hello, Ray,” said Jack, sitting down upon the rock beside him. “I hope you’ll excuse me for following you, but—well, hang it all, you looked so glum that I just naturally worry over you. Something is on your mind, old chap, and I do wish that you would spit it out. Tell me all about it. Maybe I can help you or at least give you some advice.”
“Pshaw, Jack, don’t mind me. My troubles don’t amount to a row o’ pins to any one except myself. Shucks, let’s forget about it.”
“No, siree, now, Ray, I want to know. Look here; we’ve been pretty good friends since you came to the island in that whirlwind fashion, a couple of weeks ago, and I think that I should know all about your difficulties.”
“Aw, I haven’t any real troubles. I’m just disappointed, that’s all. You see—aw—er—let’s forget about it, will you?”
“No, no, Ray, come on, shout it out,” insisted Jack.
“I tell you it’s just disappointment, that’s all. You see I had laid so much store by it that I—”
“By what?” demanded Jack.
“Why, by my model—my non-sinkable lifeboat, you know. The one that Uncle Vance threw overboard.”
“Oh, I see, now I understand. I’d forgotten all about it. Well, why don’t you build a new model, old chap?”
“Why—er—well you see, Jack, I’ve been trying to, but, hang it all, I haven’t the material, for one thing, and—and—well, I’ve—you see there are a lot of figures about it that I’ve forgotten. I don’t know just how I did build the first one. It was made of sheet metal all soldered together and I can’t get a bit of tin or sheet iron here. I tried to make one of wood but that don’t go either. Gee, I am up against it. And I wanted to see if I couldn’t earn enough money with it—aw, shucks, let’s quit talkin’ about it. There’s no use in worrying you about it too, Jack.”