No one was astir at Galpin's shanty, a houseboat pulled high and dry on shore, and almost hidden by great piles of driftwood snagged upon the bank to serve as winter fuel. Old Pete Galpin lived there all alone, fishing and clamming and occasionally taking a wood-cutting contract to help out through the scant winter months. Once he had been known to work with an ice-cutting gang, but quit because he was afraid he'd make so much money that it would tempt somebody to rob him.
The flat-boat that was moored down at Galpin's "dock"—four railroad ties roped together—was none too substantial looking, having been built by Galpin himself from odds and ends picked up from scrap heaps and driftage. As Galpin himself said, the only whole part about the boat was the name, which had been painted in red on a single thin board sticking a full two feet past the stern—"UPANATUM."
But the boys did not waste a great deal of time in admiring the beautiful lines of their borrowed craft. Jerry made at once for the oar seat, leaving Dave to untie and push off. For all the tremendous leak which at once developed, the boat responded easily to the strenuous tugs of Jerry's muscular arms and back.
They beached the boat and made their way up the bank and across a field where oats had just been cut, the bundles lying yellow as gold in the early morning sunlight. Just beyond was a narrow, plum-thicket bordered lane, which in turn led into the newly graveled "county" road. The boys found the walking much easier in a path that twisted along next to the fence. However, within a mile, along came a farmer, hauling a load of early potatoes to town, and the boys gladly accepted his invitation to "hop on."
Within a quarter of a mile both were sound asleep, nor did they waken until the springless wagon rattled over the interurban tracks less than two blocks from Dave's home. Rubbing their eyes in a vain attempt to drive out the sleep, they stumbled along the quiet street.
"Where will I find you after breakfast?" asked Jerry, as Dave turned in at his gate.
"In bed. I'll be lucky if I stay awake till after breakfast."
"But we've got to tell Mr. Fulton."
"You tell him, Jerry. I just know he won't pay any attention to what we say—I don't more'n half believe it now myself——" Dave had to stop for a tremendous yawn.
"If that's the case, you might just as well sleep." Jerry was out of patience, but Dave was too sleepy to care very much.