"Can I go, too?" asked Clip, anxiously.
"You shall go if I do," answered Bob.
"When will you know?" asked Clip, eagerly.
"When I find out whether I can use this boat. I had thought of building a raft, but that wouldn't do. No raft that I could build would carry our crop to St. Louis. This boat will be just the thing. I think it must have been used for that purpose before. See those large bins on each side. Each would contain from fifty to a hundred bushels of wheat. I only wish I knew the owner. Even if I couldn't buy the boat, I might make a bargain to hire it."
Bob had hardly finished his sentence when he heard a voice hailing him from the bank.
Going to the end of the boat, he looked towards the shore, and saw a tall angular figure, who seemed from his dress and appearance to be a Western Yankee. His figure was tall and angular, his face of the kind usually described as hatchet face, with a long thin nose, and his head was surmounted by a flapping sombrero, soft, broad-brimmed, and shapeless.
"Boat ahoy!" called the stranger.
"Did you wish to speak to us?" asked Bob, politely.
"I reckon I do," answered the stranger. "I want you to take me aboard that boat."
"Is the boat yours?" asked Bob.