"I don't mind that. I shall be glad to stay at your house. Could we go there to breakfast?"
"Yes; follow me, and I will lead the way."
Edward Bovee led the way to a neat cottage, where his mother, a pleasant-looking lady, welcomed them, and readily undertook to keep them till the boat started for St. Louis. Bob, feeling the necessity of concealment, took Mrs. Bovee into his confidence, and readily secured the co-operation of the good lady, who took a motherly interest in little Maud.
Now that the children have found a safe retreat, we will return to Joe Springer and his interesting wife.
About half an hour after their young prisoners had escaped, Mrs. Springer raised her head from the table, and looked about her in a bewildered way. The bright sunshine entering at the window revealed to her that she had spent the night in a drunken stupor, even if Joe's prostrate form had not been a visible reminder. She went to her husband, and shook him roughly.
"Get up, Joe!" she said. "It's morning."
He opened his eyes, and looked around him with stupefaction.
"What's up, old woman?" he asked.
"I am, and you ought to be," she answered, sharply.
"Where's the whisky?"