Although on this occasion Arthur breathed great quantities of the night air that his Aunt Nancy had declared to be poison, its injurious effects were not apparent when he awoke the next morning, looking as bright and fresh as though he had slept in the downiest of beds. To be sure he felt somewhat stiff and sore; but after his encounter with the young tramp, it would have been most surprising if he had not.
The sun was just rising as he made his way to the brook to dip his face in its cool waters; but the camp was already astir. Tramps are proverbially lazy, but they are always among the earliest of risers. From the cheap lodging-houses and police-stations of the city they are turned out at daylight. The same thing happens in the country, where the thrifty farmer routs them out from his barn or haystacks, and hunger drives them from their camps at the same early hour. A want of food was what set this particular camp astir by sunrise on this occasion; for its occupants had exhausted their entire supply on the feast of the previous evening. Now they were setting forth to beg, or steal, something to eat at the nearest farm-houses and villages.
Some of them, careless of their promise made the night before to go with Arthur and help him and Uncle Phin get their boat afloat, had already left, while others sullenly refused to keep their word, now that they were reminded of it. However, five of them, including the big tramp and his boy, said they were going that way anyhow, and didn’t mind giving the youngster a lift with his scow if it didn’t take too long and prove too hard work. So, in a few minutes after leaving his bed by the old log, Arthur found himself walking down the ravine toward the river in company with five as disreputable and rascally-looking tramps as could be found in the country.
He had not forgotten poor little Rusty. Oh, no indeed! Nor had the dog forgotten him, but now followed close at his heels without paying the slightest attention to any other person in the party. He had been stolen by the “Kid” from the Chapmans’ house during the excitement caused by the burning oil tank, and had evidently suffered much at the hands of his captor, for never after that day did he see a tramp without growling and showing his teeth at him.
The tramps’ camp was located but a few hundred yards from the road that ran along the river bank, and the relief party had hardly turned into it before Arthur, with a cry of joy, sprang forward and flung himself into the arms of Uncle Phin, who, looking the picture of misery and utter dejection, was hobbling toward them.
The old man was so overcome by joy and bewilderment that for a few moments he was utterly speechless. Then he broke out with “Tank de good Lawd, Honey, I is foun you! Ole Phin die ob de heart broke shuah if he didn’t fin you pretty quick, an he’s bin sarchin fo you all de night long.” This was said with such a heartfelt earnestness, that the boy realized in a moment how greatly his old friend had suffered.
Although Uncle Phin had found several houses during his absence of the afternoon before, none of their inmates had been willing to return and help him get the Ark afloat. He had not got back to it until after sunset, and then, to his dismay, had found it dark and deserted.
Too greatly distressed to eat or sleep, he had spent the night in wandering up and down the road hunting, and calling for, his “lil Marse,” and now that he had found him, his joy was almost too great for expression.
It was but a short distance to where the Ark lay aground, and it was but a five minutes’ job for those sturdy tramps to work her off the sand-bar and set her once more afloat.
The last thing Arthur did before scrambling aboard was to shake hands with the boy whom he had fought the evening before, and, as he bade him good-bye, he said: “I hope you won’t be an ‘ugly duckling’ much longer.”