And fun they did have.  There were bathing in the surf, and lawn tennis, and dancing at the hotel in the evening, and also lovely walks and drives, and once they went out on horseback to a large fruit farm some miles away, and were royally entertained by some of Bob Sutter’s friends.  Bob Sutter and his cousin, Mary Parloe, went along, and proved first-class company.

The idea of a trip on Bob’s yacht suited everybody, and it was decided that the whole party should go out early Monday morning, taking old Jerry Tolman with them.  They were to load down well with provisions and visit not only several points along the coast, but also one or two of the islands lying twenty-five to thirty miles south of Santa Barbara.

The Rover boys had already inspected the Old Glory and found her to be a first-class yacht in every respect.  The craft was about sixty feet in length and correspondingly broad of beam.  She carried a tall mast, but the lead in her keel was amply sufficient to keep her from going over unless under full sail in a very heavy wind.  The cabin was fairly large and richly furnished, for the Sutters were a family of means, and desired everything of the best.

If the boys liked the yacht they also liked the man who had charge of her, bluff and hearty Jerry Tolman—­Captain Jerry, as Bob Sutter called him.  He was truly an old salt, having sailed the ocean since his tenth year, on both whalers and merchantmen.  Captain Jerry lacked a book education, but he was naturally shrewd, and far from being a fool.

“Downright glad to meet ye, my hearties,” he said, when the boys were brought on board.  And he gave each hand a grip like that of iron.  “Want to look over my lady, eh?  Well, she’s a putty one to inspect, take my word on’t.”  And he showed them over the craft with pleasure.  They found the yacht clean “as a whistle,” and each particular bit of brasswork polished like a mirror.

By Saturday evening all was ready for the trip.  On Sunday morning the Rover boys went to church with the Stanhopes and the Lanings, and rested in the afternoon.

They were just about to go to supper, when a note came for Dick.  It was from Bob Sutter, and ran as follows: 

“My dear Dick:  My cousin and I have been in an accident.  We went driving to church this morning and the horse ran away and threw us both out on the rocks.  Miss Parloe had her collar bone broken, and I broke my left ankle.  Kindly come and see me if you can.”

“An accident!” cried Tom.  “That is too bad.”

“Let us all go and see him,” suggested Sam, and this plan was carried out.

They found that Bob Sutter was resting easily on his bed.  The doctor had set the broken ankle, and put it in plaster, and he had told Bob that he must keep quiet for several weeks.

“This ends that yacht trip, so far as I am concerned,” said Bob ruefully.

“Never mind, we can wait until you get well,” said Dick cheerfully, although he did not expect’ to remain at Santa Barbara more than ten days longer.