“No, I hardly think so,” he answered. “I don’t know this river well enough to navigate it after dark. When it gets a little later we’ll anchor for the night, and go on in the morning.”
“Are we going to sleep on this boat?” Trouble wanted to know.
“Of course,” answered Ted. “Do you think you’re going to sleep in the water?”
“I don’t see any beds,” remarked the little fellow, looking about.
“Well, I don’t wonder at that,” laughed his mother. “The beds are folded up, my dear. They come down like this.”
As I have told you, the berths in the Pine Tree were made to fold up during the day like those in a sleeping car. A turn of a handle and a pull brought down the beds out of recesses in the cabin walls. There were blankets, sheets and pillows stored in each berth, just as on a sleeper.
“Oh, I like these little beds!” cried Trouble, as he saw them come down.
“It’s a dandy boat,” declared Ted.
When it was dark Mr. Martin ran the boat near shore and dropped the anchor. Then, after a while, they all “turned in,” as a sailor would say—that is, they went to bed.
Janet suddenly awakened in the night—how late it was she didn’t know—but something disturbed her. A low light, operated by a storage battery, gleamed in the tiny cabin, and Janet looked across to the bunk where her mother was sleeping, with Trouble on the berth below her.