"No, sah; he off to de horse races an' won't be back until day aftah to-morrow. He put me in charge. Whar's dat boat you-uns dun spoke 'bout?"
"Out on the river somewhere—she was over yonder a couple of hours ago," answered Bob.
The negro went with them down to the shore and swung the smoky lantern above his head.
"Dar's a scow out dar," he cried, presently.
"That's our boat," cried Mark. "How can we get to her? Have you a rowboat?"
"Suah. Wait, I'll git her," said the negro, and ran off. Soon they saw him returning with a skiff. They entered the craft and in a few minutes were aboard of the scow once more. To their delight they saw that the flat-bottom craft was uninjured and that their store of provisions was safe.
"We might have been miles down the river, if it hadn't been for your hounds," grumbled Bob.
"And had supper too," put in Mark.
"Ain't you-uns had nuffin to eat?"
"No."