“It must be a boat of some kind!” Thad now declared; “yes, I can begin to get a glimpse of the same through that thin screen of bushes.”
“Wow! looks like a houseboat to me, boys, or what out on the Ohio and the Mississippi they call a shanty boat, which is a cabin built on a monitor or float!” was what Step Hen announced.
“I believe you’re right there, Step Hen,” Allan put in; “but no matter, any port in a storm; and when a crowd of scouts are hard pushed they can squeeze in small quarters. We’ll fix it somehow with the owner of that craft to let us pile in with him till the clouds roll by.”
All sorts of loud remarks followed, as the party hastened their footsteps, some of the boys even laughing, for the improved prospects made Bumpus and Smithy temporarily forget their troubles.
All of them quickly saw that the object of their attention was really a clumsy-looking houseboat. It seemed to be moored to the bank with a stout rope, and, judging from the fact that a light shone from a small window, it must be occupied.
Laughing and jostling one another, the eight boys pushed on. It was not so dark as yet but what they could have been seen after passing the screen of leafless bushes, had any one chanced to look out of that window.
Thad led the way aboard. No dog barked, nor did they hear any sort of a sound inside the cabin.
“Give ’em a knock, Thad!” said Step Hen.
This the patrol leader did, but there was no reply. Thad waited half a minute, and, hearing nothing, once more rapped his knuckles on the door.
“All asleep, or else up the road somewhere; s’pose you open the door yourself, Thad!” suggested Giraffe impatiently.