"Some negroes used to live on the north shore of the lake," said
Harold Bird, "but the floods last year made them vacate in a hurry."
It was decided to move around the shore of the lake slowly, scanning every cove and inlet with care. That the houseboat was hidden somewhere on that expanse of water none of the party had any doubt.
"You could take quite a trip in this launch," said Sam to Harold
Bird, as they moved along. "The more I see of the craft the better
I like her. May I ask what she is worth?"
"I gave two thousand dollars for her. I bought her in New Orleans and brought her up the river myself. The folks around here don't know much about gasoline launches, but I think she's as nice a craft as anybody would wish."
"How much water does she draw?"
"Only two and a half feet when loaded down—so you see we can get over some pretty shallow spots, if it is necessary."
They were moving along a scantily-wooded stretch of shore when Tom let out a short cry:
"Stop!"
"What's up, Tom?" asked several.
"I saw somebody just now—back of yonder bushes. He stepped out and then stepped back again."