Ruth stole a glance at her guardian’s face. He was more than usually quiet and anxious, she thought, though he tried to be gay and jolly.
“We’ll have a look at this boat,” said Mr. Howbridge, as they advanced toward it. “I’ll get Minerva’s opinion, and then we’ll try to find Hank Dayton.”
“I know where to find him,” said Neale. “He’s going to bunk down at the lower lock for a while. I made him promise to stay there until he could have a talk with you.”
“Very good,” announced the lawyer. “Now come on, youngsters!” he cried with a gayer manner, and he caught Dot up in his arms and carried her aboard the boat, Neale, Ruth and the others following.
It was a typical houseboat. That is, it was a sort of small house built on what would otherwise have been a scow. The body of the boat was broad beamed forward and aft, as a sailor would say. That is, it was very wide, whereas most boats are pointed at the bow, and only a little less narrow at the stern.
“It’s like a small-sized canal boat, isn’t it?” remarked Agnes, as they went down into the cabin.
“But ever so much nicer,” said Ruth.
“Oh, look at the cute little cupboards!” cried Dot. “I could keep my dolls there.”
“And here’s a sweet place for the cats!” added Tess, raising the cover of a sort of box in a corner. “It would be a crib.”
“That’s a locker,” explained Mr. Howbridge, with a smile.