The Corner House Girls on a Houseboat

“Have you got a bite?” suddenly asked Tess in a low voice of her sister.

“No, not yet. I’m going to set my Alice-doll up where she can watch me. She never saw anybody catch a fish – my Alice-doll didn’t.” And Dot propped her “child” up near her, on the deck of the craft.

Suddenly Hank pulled his pole up sharply.

“I got one!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, I wish I’d get one!” echoed Tess.

“Let me see!” fairly shouted Dot. “Let me see the fish, Hank!” She struggled to her feet, and the next moment a wild cry rang out.

“She’s fallen in! Oh, she’s fallen in! Oh, get her out!”

CHAPTER XII – NEALE WONDERS

Dot’s startled cries roused all on board the Bluebird. Neale and Mr. Howbridge dropped the cot they were setting in place under the awning, and rushed to the railing of the deck. Inside the boat Ruth, Agnes and Mrs. MacCall hurried to windows where they could look out toward the stern where the fishing party had seated themselves.

“Man overboard!” sang out Neale, hardly thinking what he was doing.

But, to the surprise of all the startled ones, they saw at the stern of the boat, Hank, Dot and Tess, and from Hank’s line was dangling a wiggling fish.

But Dot was pointing to something in the water.

“Why!” exclaimed Ruth, “no one has fallen in. What can the child mean?”

“She said – ” began Agnes, but she was interrupted by Dot who exclaimed:

“It’s my Alice-doll! She fell in when I got up to look at Hank’s fish! Oh, somebody please get my Alice-doll!”

“I will in jest a minute now, little lady!” cried the mule driver. “It’s bad luck to let your first fish git away. Jest a minute now, and I’ll save your Alice-doll!”

Neale and Mr. Howbridge hurried down to the lower deck from the top one in time to see Hank take his fish from the hook and toss it into a pail of water the mule driver had placed near by for just this purpose. Then as Hank took off his coat and seemed about to plunge overboard into the canal, to rescue the doll, Ruth said:

“Don’t let him, Mr. Howbridge. Dot’s doll isn’t worth having him risk his life for.”

“Risking my life, Miss Kenway! It wouldn’t be that,” said Hank, with a laugh. “I can swim, and I’d just like a bath.”

“Here’s a boat hook,” said Neale, offering one, and while Dot and Tess clung to one another Hank managed to fish up the “Alice-doll,” Dot’s special prize, which was, fortunately, floating alongside the houseboat.

“There you are, little lady!” exclaimed the driver, and he began to squeeze some of the water from Alice.

“Oh, please don’t!” begged Dot.

“Don’t what?” asked Hank.

“Please don’t choke her that way. All her sawdust might come out. It did once. I’ll just hang her up to dry. Poor Alice-doll!” murmured the little girl, as she clasped her toy in her arms.

“Were you almost drowned?” and she cuddled her doll still closer in her arms.

“Don’t hold her so close to you, Dot,” cautioned Ruth. “She’ll get you soaking wet.”

“I don’t care!” muttered Dot. “I’ve got to put dry clothes on her so she won’t catch cold.”

“And that’s just what I don’t want to have to do for you – change your clothes again to-day,” went on Ruth. “You can love your doll even if you don’t hold her so close.”

“Well, anyhow I’m glad she didn’t drown,” said Dot.

“So’m I,” remarked Tess. “I’ll go and help you change her. I’m glad we didn’t bring Almira and her kittens along, for they look so terrible when they’re wet – cats do.”

“And I’m glad we didn’t have Sammy and Billy Bumps here to fall in!” laughed Agnes. “Goats are even worse in the water than cats.”

“Well, aren’t you going to help me fish any more?” asked Hank, as the two little girls walked away, deserting their poles and lines.

“I have to take care of my Alice-doll,” declared Dot.

“And I have to help her,” said Tess.

“I’ll take a hand at fishing, if you don’t mind,” said Neale.

“And I wouldn’t mind trying myself,” added the lawyer. And when Hank’s sleeping quarters had been arranged the three men, though perhaps Neale could hardly be called that, sat together at the stern of the boat, their lines in the water.

“Mr. Howbridge is almost like a boy himself on this trip, isn’t he?” said Agnes to Ruth as the two sisters helped Mrs. MacCall make up the berths for the night.

“Yes, he is, and I’m glad of it. I wouldn’t know what to do if some grave, tiresome old man had charge of our affairs.”

“Well now, who is going to have first luck?” questioned Mr. Howbridge, jokingly, as the three sat down to try their hands at fishing.

“I guess the luck will go to the first one who gets a catch,” returned Neale.

“Luck goes to the one who gits the biggest fish,” put in the mule driver.

After that there was silence for a few minutes. Then the lawyer gave a cry of satisfaction.

“Got a bite?” questioned Hank.

“I have and he’s a beauty,” was the reply, and Mr. Howbridge drew up a fair-sized fish.

A minute later Neale found something on his hook. It was so large he had to play his catch.

“You win!” cried the lawyer, when the fish was brought on board. And he was right, for it was the largest catch made by any of them.

The fishing party had good luck, and a large enough supply was caught for a meal the next day. Hank cleaned them and put them in the ice box, for a refrigerator was among the fittings on the Bluebird.

Then, as night came on, Dot and Tess were put to bed, Dot insisting on having her “Alice-doll” placed near her bunk to dry. Hank retired to his secluded cot on the upper deck, the mules had been tethered in a sheltered grove of trees just off the towpath, and everything was made snug for the night.

“How do you like the trip so far?” asked Mr. Howbridge of Ruth and Agnes, as he sat in the main cabin, talking with them and Neale.

“It’s just perfect!” exclaimed Agnes. “And I know we’re going to like it more and more each day.”

“Yes, it is a most novel way of spending the summer vacation,” agreed Ruth, but there was little animation in her voice.

“Are you still mourning the loss of your jewelry?” asked the lawyer, noting her rather serious face.

Ruth nodded. “Mother’s wedding ring was in that box,” she said softly.

“You must not let it spoil your trip,” her guardian continued. “I think there is a good chance of getting it back.”

“Do you mean you think the police will catch those rough men who robbed us?” asked Ruth.

“Yes,” answered the lawyer. “I told them they must spare no effort to locate the ruffians, and they have sent an alarm to all the neighboring towns and cities. Men of that type will not find it easy to dispose of the rings and pins, and they may have to carry them around with them for some time. I really believe you will get back your things.”

“Oh, I hope so!” exclaimed Ruth. “It has been an awful shock.”

“I would rather they had taken a much larger amount of jewelry than have harmed either you or Agnes,” went on the guardian. “They were ruffians of the worst type, and would not have stopped at injuring a person to get what they wanted. But don’t worry, we shall hear good news from the police, I am sure.”

“I believe that, too,” put in Neale. “I wish I was as sure of hearing good news of my father.”

“That is going to be a little harder problem,” said Mr. Howbridge. “However, we are doing all we can. I am hoping your Uncle Bill will have had definite news of your father and of where he has settled since he came back from the Klondike. Your father would be most likely to communicate with your uncle first.”

“I suppose so,” agreed Neale. “But when shall we see Uncle Bill?”

“As I told you,” went on the lawyer, “his circus will soon show at a town near which we shall pass in the boat. The younger children will probably want to go to the circus, and that will give me a good excuse for attending myself,” the lawyer went on with a laugh, in which Ruth joined.

The night passed quietly, though about twelve o’clock another boat came along and had to pass the Bluebird. As there is but one towpath along a canal, it is necessary when two boats meet, or when one passes the other, for the tow-line of one to go under or over the tow-line of the second boat.

As the Bluebird was tied to the shore it was needful, in this case, for the tow-line of the passing boat to be lifted up over it, and when this was being done it awakened Ruth and Agnes. At first the girls were startled, but they settled back when the nature of the disturbance was known.

Dot half awakened and murmured something about some one trying to take her “Alice-doll,” but Ruth soon quieted her.

Neale was awake early the next morning, and went on the upper deck for a breath of air before breakfast. He saw Hank emerge from the curtained-off place that had been arranged for the sleeping quarters of the mule driver.

“Well, do we start soon?” asked Hank, yawning and stretching.

“I think so,” Neale answered, and then he saw Hank make a sudden dart for something that had evidently slipped from a hole in his pocket. It was something that rolled across the deck, something round, and shining like gold.

The mule driver made a dive for the object and caught it before it could roll off the deck, and Neale had a chance to see that it was a gold ring.

Without a word Hank picked it up and put it back in his pocket. Then, without a glance at the boy, he turned aside, and, making his way to the towpath, he began carrying the mules their morning feed.

Neale stood staring after him, and at the memory of the ring he became possessed of strange thoughts and wonderings.

CHAPTER XIII – THE TRICK MULE

Neale O’Neil was wiser than most boys of his age. Perhaps having once lived in a circus had something to do with it. At any rate, among the things he had learned was to think first and speak afterward. And he decided to put this into practice now. He was doing a deal of thinking about the ring he had seen roll over the deck to be so quickly, almost secretively, picked up by Hank Dayton. But of it Neale said nothing to the mule driver nor to those aboard the Bluebird.

Walking about on the upper deck and looking down the towpath toward Hank, who was bringing the mules from their sylvan stable to feed them, Neale heard Ruth call:

“How’s the weather up there?”

“Glorious!” cried the boy. “It’s going to be a dandy day.”

“That’s great!” exclaimed Ruth. “Come on, children!” she called. “Everybody up! The mules are up and we must be up too,” she went on, paraphrasing a little verse in the school reader.

“Did any of the mules fall into the canal?” asked Dot, as she made haste to look at her “Alice-doll,” who had dried satisfactorily during the night.

“’Course not! Why should a mule fall into the canal?” asked Tess.

“Well, they might. My doll did,” went on the smallest Corner House girl. “But, anyhow, I’m glad they didn’t.”

“Yes, so am I,” remarked Mr. Howbridge, as they all gathered around the breakfast table, which Mrs. MacCall had set, singing the while some Scotch song containing many new and strange words.

“Well, shall we travel on?” asked the lawyer, when the meal was over and Hank was hitching the mules to the tow-rope, the animals and their driver having had a satisfying meal.

“Oh, yes, let’s go on!” urged Agnes. “I’m crazy to go through one of the locks.”

“Will there be any trouble about getting the houseboat through?” asked Ruth of her guardian. “She is a pretty big craft!”

“But not as long as many of the canal boats, though a trifle wider, or ‘of more beam,’ as a sailor would say,” he remarked. “No, the locks are large enough to let us through. But tell me, do you find this method of travel too slow?” he went on. “I know you young folks like rapid motion, and this may bore you,” and he glanced quickly at Ruth.

“Oh, not at all,” she hastened to say. “I love it. The mules are so calm and peaceful.”

Just then one of the animals let out a terrific hee-haw and Agnes, covering her ears with her hands, laughed at her sister.

“That’s just as good as a honk-honk horn on an auto!” exclaimed Tess.

“Calm and peaceful!” tittered Agnes. “How do you like that, Ruth?”

“I don’t mind it at all,” was the calm answer. “It blends in well with the environment, and it’s much better than the shriek of a locomotive whistle.”

“Bravo, Minerva!” cried Mr. Howbridge. “You should have been a lawyer. I shall call you Portia for a change.”

“Don’t, please!” she begged. “You have enough nicknames for me now.”

“Very well then, we’ll stick to the old ones. And, meanwhile, if you are all ready I’ll give the word to Hank to start his mules. There is no hurry on this trip, as the man to whom I am to deliver this boat has no special need for it. But we may as well travel on.”

“I’ll be glad when I can start the gasoline motor,” remarked Neale.

“Which will be as soon as we get off the canal and into the river,” said the lawyer. “I’d use the motor now, only the canal company won’t permit it on account of the wash of the propeller tearing away the banks.”

The tow-line tauted as the mules leaned forward in their collars, and once more the Bluebird was under way.

Life aboard the houseboat was simple and easy, as it was intended to be. There was little housework to do, and it was soon over, and all that remained was to sit on deck and watch the ever-changing scenery. The changes were not too rapid, either, for a boat towed on a canal does not progress very fast.

“It’s like a moving picture, isn’t it?” remarked Agnes. “It puts me in mind of some scenes in foreign countries – rural scenes, I mean.”

“Only the moving pictures move so much faster,” returned Ruth, with a smile. “They show you hundreds of miles in a few minutes.”

“Gracious, I wouldn’t want to ride as fast as that,” exclaimed Tess. “We’d fall off or blow away sure!”

It just suited the Corner House girls, though, and Neale extracted full enjoyment from it, though, truth to tell, he was rather worried in his mind. One matter was the finding of his father, and the other was a suspicion concerning Hank and the ring.

This was a suspicion which, as yet, Neale hardly admitted to himself very plainly. He wanted to watch the mule driver for a time yet.

“It may not have been one of Ruth’s rings, to begin with,” reasoned Neale. “And, if it is, I don’t believe Hank had anything to do with taking it, though he may know who did. I’ve got to keep on the watch!”

His meditations were interrupted, as he sat on the deck of the boat, by hearing Hank cry:

“Lock! Lock!”

That meant the boat was approaching one of the devices by which canal craft are taken over hills. A canal is, of course, a stream on a level. It does not run like a river. In fact, it is just like a big ditch.

But as a canal winds over the country it comes to hills, and to get up or down these, two methods are employed. One is what is called an inclined plane.

The canal comes to the foot of a hill and stops. There a sort of big cradle is let down into the water, the boat is floated into the cradle, and then boat, cradle and all are pulled up over the hill on a sort of railroad track, a turbine water wheel usually furnishing the power. Once over the brow of the hill the cradle and boat slide down into the water again and the journey is resumed.

The other means of getting a canal boat over a hill is by means of a lock. When the waterway is stopped in its level progress by reaching a hill, a square place is excavated and lined with rocks so as to form a water-tight basin, the open end being closed by big, wooden gates.

The Bluebird was now approaching one of these locks, where it was to be raised from a low to a higher level. While Hank managed the mules, Neale steered the boat into the stone-lined basin. Then the big gates were closed behind the craft, and the mules, being unhitched, were sent forward to begin towing again when the boat should have been lifted.

“Now we can watch!” said Dot as she and Tess took their places at the railing. Going through canal locks was a novelty for them, as there were no locks near Milton, though the canal ran through the town.

Once the Bluebird was locked within the small stone-lined basin, water was admitted to it through gates at the other and higher end. These gates kept the body of water on the higher level from pouring into the lower part of the canal. Faster and faster the water rushed in as the lock keeper opened more valves in the big gates. The water foamed and hissed all around the boat.

“Oh, we’re going up!” cried Dot. “Look, we’re rising!”

“Just like in an elevator!” added Tess.

And, indeed, that is just what it was like. The water lifted the Bluebird up higher and higher. As soon as the water had raised it to the upper level, the other gates were opened, and the Bluebird moved slowly out of the lock, having been raised about fifteen feet, from a lower to a higher level. Going from a higher to a lower is just the reverse of this. Sometimes a hill is so high that three sets of locks are necessary to get a boat up or down.

Once more the mules were hitched to the tow-line, and started off. As the boat left the lock another one came in, which was to be lowered. The children watched this as long as they could, and then turned their attention to new scenes.

It was toward the close of the afternoon, during which nothing exciting had happened, except that Tess nearly fell overboard while leaning too far across the rail to see something in the water, that Neale, looking forward toward the mules and their driver, saw a man leading a lone animal come out of a shanty along the towpath and begin to talk to Hank.

Hank halted his team, and the Bluebird slowly came to a stop. Mr. Howbridge, who was talking to Ruth and Agnes, looked up from a book of accounts he was going over with them and inquired:

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh, Hank has met a friend, I imagine,” ventured Neale. “It’s a man with a lone mule.”

“Well, he shouldn’t stop just to have a friendly talk,” objected the lawyer. “We aren’t hiring him for that. Give him a call, Neale, and see what he means.”

But before this could be done Hank turned, and, making a megaphone of his hands, called:

“Say, do you folks want to buy a good mule cheap?”

“Buy a mule,” repeated the lawyer, somewhat puzzled.

“Yes. This man has one to sell, and it might be a good plan for us to have an extra one.”

“I never thought of that,” said the lawyer. “It might be a good plan. Let’s go up and see about it, Neale.”

“Let’s all go,” proposed Agnes. “It will rest us to walk along the towpath.”

The Bluebird was near shore and there was no difficulty in getting to the path. Then all save Mrs. MacCall, who preferred to remain on board, walked up toward the two men and the three mules.

The man who had stopped Hank was a rough-looking character, but many towpath men were that, and little was thought of it at the time.

“Do you folks want to buy a good mule?” he asked. “I’ll sell him cheap,” he went on. “I had a team, but the other died on me.”

“I’m not much of an authority on mules,” said Mr. Howbridge slowly. “What do you say, Neale? Would you advise purchasing this animal if he is a bargain?”

Neale did not answer. He was carefully looking at the mule, which stood near the other two.

“Where’d you get this mule?” asked Neale quickly, looking at the stranger.

“Oh, I’ve had him a good while. He’s one of a team, but I sold my boat and – ”

“This mule never towed a boat!” said the boy quickly.

“What makes you say that?” demanded the man in an angry voice.

“Because I know,” went on Neale. “This is a trick mule, and, unless I’m greatly mistaken, he used to be in my uncle’s circus!”

CHAPTER XIV – AT THE CIRCUS

All eyes were turned on Neale O’Neil as he said this, and it would be difficult to say who was the more astonished. As for the Corner House girls, they simply stared at their friend. Hank Dayton looked surprised, and then he glanced from the mule in question to the man who had offered to dispose of the animal. Mr. Howbridge looked very much interested. As for the strange tramp – for that is what he was – he seemed very angry.

“What do you mean?” he cried. “This mule isn’t any trick mule!”

“Oh, isn’t he?” asked Neale quietly. “And I suppose he never was in a circus, either?”

“Of course not!” declared the man. “Who are you, anyhow, and what do you mean by talking that way?”

“I advise you to be a little more respectful in tone,” said Mr. Howbridge in his suave, lawyer’s voice. “If we do any business at all it will be on this boy’s recommendation. He knows about mules. I do not. I shall hear what he and Hank have to say.”

“Well, it’s all foolish saying this mule was in a circus,” blustered the man. “I’ve had him over a year, and I want to sell him now because he hasn’t any mate. I can’t pull a canal boat with one mule.”

“Especially not a trick mule that never hauled a boat in his life,” put in Neale.

“Here! You quit that! What do you mean?” demanded the man in sullen tones.

“I mean just what I said,” declared Neale. “I believe this is a trick mule that used to be in my uncle Bill’s show – in Twomley and Sorber’s Herculean Circus and Menagerie, to be exact. Of course I may be mistaken, but if not I can easily prove what I say.”

“Huh! I’d like to see you do it!” sneered the man.

“All right, I will,” and Neale’s manner was confident. “I recognize this mule,” he went on to Mr. Howbridge, “by that mark on his off hind hoof,” and he pointed to a bulge on the mule’s foot. “But of course that may be on another mule, as well as on the one that was in my uncle’s circus. However, if I can make this mule do a trick I taught old Josh in the show, that ought to prove what I say, oughtn’t it?”

“I should think so,” agreed the lawyer.

“You can’t make this mule do any tricks,” sneered the tramp. “He’s a good mule for pulling canal boats, but he can’t do tricks.”

“Oh, can’t he?” remarked Neale. “Well, we’ll see. Come here, Josh!” he suddenly called.

The mule moved his big ears forward, as though to make sure of the voice, and then, looking at Neale, slowly approached him.

“Anybody could do that!” exclaimed the man disdainfully.

“Well, can anybody do this?” asked the boy. “Josh – dead mule!” he suddenly cried. And, to the surprise of all, the mule dropped to the towpath, stretched out his legs stiffly and lay on his side with every appearance of having departed this life.

“There!” exclaimed Neale. “That’s the trick I taught him in the show, before I left it.”

The other mules were sniffing at their prostrate companion.

“Oh, isn’t he funny!” cried Dot, as Josh opened one eye and looked straight at her.

“I’d rather have a mule than Billy Bumps for a pet!” declared Tess.

“Did you really make him do it, Neale?” asked Ruth.

“Yes, and I can do it again!” declared the lad. “Up, Josh!” he commanded, and the mule scrambled to his feet. “Dead mule – Josh!” cried Neale again, and down the animal went a second time.

“Well, what have you to say to that?” the boy turned to ask the tramp. But the man did not stay to answer. Off he ran, down the towpath, at top speed.

“Shall I get him?” cried Hank, throwing the reins on the back of one of his mules, while Josh, in response to a command from Neale, stood upright again.

“No, let him go,” advised Mr. Howbridge. “It is very evident that he had no legal claim to this mule, and he either took him away from the circus himself, or received him from some one who did. Neale, I congratulate you.”

“Thanks. I thought I recognized old Uncle Josh, but the trick proved it. He hasn’t forgotten that or me; have you, old fellow?” he asked as he rubbed the mule’s velvety nose. And the animal seemed glad to be near the boy.

“Pretty slick, I call that,” said Hank admiringly. “Guess you’ll have to teach my mules some trick, Neale.”

“It takes too long!” laughed the lad.

“Is this our mule now?” asked Dot, as she approached the new animal, which was quite gentle and allowed the children to pet him.

“Well, I don’t know just who does own him,” said Mr. Howbridge, not wanting to give a legal opinion which might be wrong. “But he certainly does not belong to that man,” and he looked after the retreating figure, now far down the towpath.