"You bet we will," remarked Herb; "at least this chicken does. Ugh! I'd wake up, and think a raft of snakes was creeping out of that old swamp there. Are you all of the same mind about bunking aboard?"
"If anybody will go me, I'll stay ashore," announced Nick, to the surprise of his chums; but then they knew the narrow confines of the speed boat cramped his ample form, and that explained his boldness. "That is, if George will only let me have his gun too."
"Sure I will, and only too glad," declared that worthy, eagerly. "I'd like to stretch all over the bally old boat myself, for once."
Jimmy took up Nick's offer, and so Jack set to work making them a rude sort of canopy that was calculated to shed water fairly well. It was composed of branches from nearby trees, and might be called a hunter's lean-to.
When the time came for retiring, the two boys lay down under this, drawing their blankets around them, for the night air was chilly.
"If it rains too hard, crawl in where you belong," was the last instruction Jack gave them before seeking the bed he had made in the Tramp's interior.
Later on all was silent about the camp on the canal. From the swamp near by various queer sounds might have been heard, had any one remained awake to listen; but as the boys were all pretty tired, no doubt they slept well.
It might have been in the middle of the night that Jack was aroused by a loud shout, which he recognized as coming from Nick. Wondering what it meant, he immediately started to climb out of the boat, gun in hand, when there came a tremendous report. Evidently Nick, whether he had seen something suspicious or was dreaming he did, had fired George's borrowed gun!