“Oh, yes. Mrs. MacCall will see that he gets what he needs, and Hank, as you call him, will feed the mules,” said Mr. Howbridge.
“Do you think we ought to call him Hank?” asked Tess. “It seems so familiar.”
“He’s used to it,” answered Neale. “Everybody along the canal calls him that. He’s been a driver for years, before he went to traveling around, and met men who knew my father.”
“Hum! That just reminds me,” said the lawyer musingly, as Dot and Tess hurried from the table. “Perhaps I ought to question Hank about the two Klondikers who inquired about the Stetson flat. He may know of them. Well, it will do to-night after we have tied up.”
“Where is Hank going to sleep?” asked Ruth, who, filling the rôle of housekeeper, thought she must carry out her duties even on the Bluebird.
“He will sleep on the upper deck. I have a cot for him,” said the lawyer. “The mules will be tethered on the towpath. It is warm now, and they won’t need shelter. They are even used to being out in the rain.”
The afternoon was drawing to a close, matters aboard the houseboat had been arranged to satisfy even the critical taste of Ruth, and Mrs. MacCall was beginning to put her mind on the preparation of supper when Dot, who had come below to get a new dress for her “Alice-doll,” ran from the storeroom where the trunks and valises had been put.
“Oh! Oh, Ruth!” gasped the little girl. “Somebody’s in there!”
“In where?” asked Ruth, who was writing a letter at the living-room table.
“In there!” and Dot pointed toward the storeroom, which was at the stern of the boat under the stairs that led up on deck.