"That's a funny place to build a house," said Roy.
"Maybe it's a fisherman's shack," Tom suggested.
Whatever it was, it was a most isolated and lonesome habitation, standing in the centre of that desert flat, shut in by the precipitous hills.
"It would be a good place for a hermit," said Roy. "You don't suppose anyone lives there, do you?"
"Cracky, wouldn't you like to be a hermit! Do you know what I'd like to have now——"
"An umbrella," interrupted Tom.
The remark, notwithstanding that it shocked Pee-wee's sense of fitness, inasmuch as they were scouting and "roughing it," was not inappropriate, for even as Tom spoke the patter of great drops was heard.
"Maybe it's been raining here this afternoon," observed Tom, "and that's what makes all this mud."
"Well, it's certainly raining here now," said Roy. "Me for that shack!"
The rain suddenly came down in torrents and the boys turned up their collars and made a dash across the marshy land toward the shadowy structure. Roy reached it first and, turning, called: "Hey, fellows, it's a boat!"