“All aboard!” cried Neale, and they took their places on the Bluebird. Mr. Howbridge had arranged for one of his men to come and drive back the automobile, and there was nothing further to be looked after.
“Shall I start?” called Hank, from his station near the mules, after he had helped Neale haul up the gangplank which had connected the houseboat with the towpath.
“Give ’em gas!” shouted the boy through his hands held in trumpet fashion.
The animals leaned forward in their collars, the rope tauted, pulling with a swishing sound up from the water into which it had dropped. The Bluebird began slowly to move, and at last they were on their way.
Ruth, Agnes and the others remained on deck for a while, and then the older folk, including Neale, went below to get things “shipshape and Bristol fashion.” Dot and Tess remained on deck under the awning.
“Don’t fall overboard!” cautioned Mrs. MacCall to the small sisters.
“We won’t!” they promised.
It was about ten minutes later, during which time the Bluebird was progressing slowly through the quiet waters of the canal, that Agnes heard shouts on deck.
“Hark!” she exclaimed, for they were all moving about, getting matters to rights in the cabins.
“What is it?” asked Ruth.