Another such room I never expect to see. Here and there were odds and ends of discarded furniture. Two rickety chairs, a cluttered bureau, a three-legged table. An old oil stove had smoked black the wall behind it and the ceiling directly overhead. The dirty cupboard was filled with greasy pots and pans. It was hard to conceive how a man could live in such stinking filth.
A bed was set up in an adjoining room, reached through a connecting door. Here windows on two sides looked down upon the river and a clutter of rotting sheds. Also we could trace the course of the weedy, incoming road. [[207]]
Opening a closet door, Scoop pointed to a man’s tattered raincoat. There was a worn pair of shoes on the floor. We pawed through a litter of paper and other trash, but failed to uncover the talking frog.
At this point the purr of a motor fell on our ears. Then we heard boys’ voices. Gennor and his gang had arrived. We realized that it was them, even before we had gotten sight of them from the chamber window.
Bid got his eyes on our motor-boat.
“Lookit!” he screeched, pointing. The whole gang ran to the river’s edge. We were afraid that they would untie the boat or damage the engine.
Gennor came running from his car with an old leather traveling bag of peculiar shape. Lining up the others in a bossy way, he advanced on the hotel.
Hearing them on the stairs, and realizing that we were trapped, sort of, Scoop shot the bolt in the connecting door. This gave us the bedroom as a fortress.
The others tumbled into the adjoining room.
“What do you know about this?” cried Bid. “Somebody’s living here.” [[208]]