“Maybe,” said Ruth, but under her breath she added: “Not if I know it.”
“Good-by, Sammy!” called Dot.
But Tess, still indignant over Sammy’s suggestion to turn the goat—her goat—loose to shift for himself, called merely:
“Good-by, Billy Bumps!”
Mr. Howbridge went into the town and telephoned to Milton to let Sammy’s father know the boy was safe and on his way back, and then matters became rather more quiet aboard the Bluebird.
The houseboat was towed to a good place in which to spend the night. Lines were carried ashore and the craft moored to trees along the towpath.
The mules were given their suppers and tethered, and Hank announced that he was going to do some fishing before he “turned in.”
“Oh, could I fish, too?” cried Dot.
“And me! I want to!” added Tess.
“I think they might be allowed to,” said Mr. Howbridge. “There are really good fish in the canal, coming from Lake Macopic, and we could cook them for breakfast. They’d keep all right in the ice box—if any are caught.”