awning down again, and then, somewhat damp, they retreated to the forward cabin and watched the rain lash the river and listened to the roaring of the storm. It was all over in half an hour, leaving the air cool and refreshing. They had a good supper and afterward, at about eight, pulled up anchor and headed the Slow Poke diagonally down the river until it was opposite the place where Chub had undressed and left his coat. There Chub jumped into the tender and rowed ashore. The others watched anxiously while the Slow Poke sauntered along with the current but in five minutes Chub was back again, his clothes in a bundle in the bottom of the tender.
“Didn’t see a soul,” he answered in response to the questions of the others. “Start her up, Dick, and we’ll go back.”
It wasn’t so easy to sleep that night, for the trains went rushing by on an average of every half hour, shrieking and clattering. But they managed to doze off at intervals until well toward morning when, having become inured to the racket, they slept soundly until the alarm-clock in Chub’s bedroom went off.
“I move you,” said Chub at breakfast, “that
