CHAPTER XII
IT LOOKS LIKE COLUMBIA'S DAY
"Hold up, here, what do you mean by saying that to me?" exclaimed Frank, as he laid a hand on the arm of his chum, and whirled him around.
Lanky grinned good naturedly, as he made answer.
"Just what I said—green paint! Nothing could be clearer to you, I guess, when you stop to think a little."
"My boat that was smashed in the river was painted green before I put on that outside coat of varnish. I happen to know that you've been on the lookout for a launch that shows marks of green around her bow. Do you mean to tell me you've been and gone and done it—found the nasty little motor-boat that knocked into us the other night?" demanded Frank, eagerly.
"Sure!" came the ready reply, as Lanky nodded his head up and down several times.
"Whose was it, then?"