“Very well then, we’ll stick to the old ones. And, meanwhile, if you are all ready I’ll give the word to Hank to start his mules. There is no hurry on this trip, as the man to whom I am to deliver this boat has no special need for it. But we may as well travel on.”
“I’ll be glad when I can start the gasoline motor,” remarked Neale.
“Which will be as soon as we get off the canal and into the river,” said the lawyer. “I’d use the motor now, only the canal company won’t permit it on account of the wash of the propeller tearing away the banks.”
The tow-line tauted as the mules leaned forward in their collars, and once more the Bluebird was under way.
Life aboard the houseboat was simple and easy, as it was intended to be. There was little housework to do, and it was soon over, and all that remained was to sit on deck and watch the ever-changing scenery. The changes were not too rapid, either, for a boat towed on a canal does not progress very fast.
“It’s like a moving picture, isn’t it?” remarked Agnes. “It puts me in mind of some scenes in foreign countries—rural scenes, I mean.”
“Only the moving pictures move so much faster,” returned Ruth, with a smile. “They show you hundreds of miles in a few minutes.”
“Gracious, I wouldn’t want to ride as fast as that,” exclaimed Tess. “We’d fall off or blow away sure!”
It just suited the Corner House girls, though, and Neale extracted full enjoyment from it, though, truth to tell, he was rather worried in his mind. One matter was the finding of his father, and the other was a suspicion concerning Hank and the ring.
This was a suspicion which, as yet, Neale hardly admitted to himself very plainly. He wanted to watch the mule driver for a time yet.