"That remains to be seen," said Grant dryly as he looked about the room in which they found themselves. "It seems to me that the motto over the door of this place ought to be, 'He who enters here leaves soap behind.'"
"Where did you find that?" laughed George.
"Didn't you ever hear of the motto over the Bridge of Sighs?"
Whether the boys had ever heard of the famous bridge or not was not manifest, for at that moment in the midst of a deafening peal of thunder the landlady entered the room where the boys were waiting.
"What can I do for you?" she inquired as the thunder ceased.
"We're caught in the storm and thought perhaps we might stay here all night," suggested Fred.
"The house is pretty full," said the woman dubiously. "I don't know whether I can give you rooms or not."
At that moment there came a burst of loud laughter from the bar-room. It was plain that many of the men who were employed on the canal also had sought shelter in the little tavern. The house was old, so old that the boards in the floor were warped and the low ceilings gave evidence of the many years that had passed since they had been placed there. Not a door fitted its frame and the windows were all small, the panes being not much more than seven by nine. Whatever was done in one part of the house plainly was likely to be known also in other parts. The noisy men, who were drinking in the bar-room, whose shouts and songs and cries now were even more distinctly heard, could not confine their loud demonstrations to the room in which they had assembled even if they had been so inclined.
"If you don't mind," suggested Fred to the landlady, "I think we would like to go up to our rooms."
"Have you had any supper?" inquired the woman.