The Corner House Girls on a Houseboat

And then Neale began to talk excitedly.

CHAPTER VI – MORE NEWS

“They told me at your office you had come here, Mr. Howbridge,” said Neale. “And I hurried on as fast as I could.”

“Did they send you here to find me?” asked the lawyer.

“Yes, sir.”

“With any message?” As Mr. Howbridge asked this Ruth noticed that her guardian seemed very anxious about something.

“Yes, I have a message,” went on Neale. “It’s about – ”

“The Jackson case?” interrupted the lawyer. “Is there a decision from the court and – ”

“Oh, no, this isn’t anything about the Jackson case or any other,” Neale hastened to say. “It’s about my father. And – ”

Ruth and Agnes could not help gasping in surprise. As for the two smaller Kenway children all they had eyes for was the houseboat.

“Oh, your father!” repeated Mr. Howbridge. “Have you found him, Neale?” There was very evident relief in the lawyer’s tone.

“No, sir, I haven’t found him. But you know you told me to come to you as soon as I had found that tramp mule driver again, and he’s back in town once more. He just arrived at the lower lock with a grain boat, and I hurried to tell you.”

“Yes, that was right, Neale,” said Mr. Howbridge. “Excuse me, Miss Ruth,” he went on, turning to the girl, “but I happen to be this young man’s legal adviser, and while I planned this for a pleasure trip, it seems that business can not be kept out of it.”

“Oh, we don’t mind!” exclaimed Ruth, with a smile at Neale. “Of course we know about this, and we’d be so glad if you could help find Mr. O’Neil.”

“All right then, if the young ladies have no objection,” said the lawyer, “we’ll combine business with pleasure. Suppose we go aboard the Bluebird. I want Miss Ruth’s opinion of her and – ”

“I don’t see why in the world you want my opinion about this boat,” said the puzzled girl. “I’m almost sure there’s a joke in it, somewhere.”

“No, Martha, no joke at all, I do assure you,” answered her guardian. “You’ll understand presently. Now, Neale, you say this mule driver has come back?”

“Yes, sir. You know I went to you as soon as he gave me a hint that my father might have returned from Alaska, and you said to keep my eyes open for this man.”

“I did, Neale, yes. You of course know this story, don’t you, Miss Ruth?” he asked.

“Yes, I believe we were the first Neale told about it.”

“Well,” went on Mr. Howbridge, while Tess and Dot showed signs of impatience to get on board the boat, “I told Neale we must find out more from this Hank Dayton, the mule driver, before we could do anything, or start to advertise for Mr. O’Neil. And now, it seems, he is here again. At first, Neale, when I saw you hurrying along, excited, I was afraid I had lost a very important law case. I am glad you did not bring bad news.”

Ruth stole a glance at her guardian’s face. He was more than usually quiet and anxious, she thought, though he tried to be gay and jolly.

“We’ll have a look at this boat,” said Mr. Howbridge, as they advanced toward it. “I’ll get Minerva’s opinion, and then we’ll try to find Hank Dayton.”

“I know where to find him,” said Neale. “He’s going to bunk down at the lower lock for a while. I made him promise to stay there until he could have a talk with you.”

“Very good,” announced the lawyer. “Now come on, youngsters!” he cried with a gayer manner, and he caught Dot up in his arms and carried her aboard the boat, Neale, Ruth and the others following.

It was a typical houseboat. That is, it was a sort of small house built on what would otherwise have been a scow. The body of the boat was broad beamed forward and aft, as a sailor would say. That is, it was very wide, whereas most boats are pointed at the bow, and only a little less narrow at the stern.

“It’s like a small-sized canal boat, isn’t it?” remarked Agnes, as they went down into the cabin.

“But ever so much nicer,” said Ruth.

“Oh, look at the cute little cupboards!” cried Dot. “I could keep my dolls there.”

“And here’s a sweet place for the cats!” added Tess, raising the cover of a sort of box in a corner. “It would be a crib.”

“That’s a locker,” explained Mr. Howbridge, with a smile.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to lock Almira in there!” exclaimed the little girl. “She might smother, and how could she get out to play with her kittens?”

“Oh, I don’t mean that it can be locked,” explained the lawyer. “It is just called that on a boat. Cupboards on the wall and the window seats on the floor are generally called lockers on board a ship.”

“Is this a ship?” asked Dot.

“Well, enough like one to use some of the same words,” replied Mr. Howbridge. “Now let’s look through it.”

This they did, and each step brought forth new delights. They had gone down a flight of steps and first entered a small cabin which was evidently intended for a living room. Back of that was very plainly the dining room, for it contained a table and some chairs and on the wall were two cupboards, or “lockers” as the lawyer said they must be called.

“And they have real dishes in them!” cried Tess, flattening her nose against one of the glass doors.

“Don’t do that, dear,” said Ruth in a low voice.

“But I want to see,” insisted Tess.

“So do I!” chimed in Dot, and soon the two little sisters, side by side, with noses pressed flat against the doors, were taking in the sights of the dishes. Mr. Howbridge silently motioned to Ruth to let them do as they pleased.

“Oh, what a lovely dolls’ party we could have here!” sighed Dot, as she turned away from the dish locker.

“And couldn’t Almira come?” asked Tess, appealing to Agnes. “And bring one of her kittens?”

“Yes, we’ll even allow you two kittens, for fear one would get lonesome,” laughed Mr. Howbridge. “But come on. You haven’t seen it all yet.”

There was a small kitchen back of the dining room, and both Ruth and Agnes were interested to see how conveniently everything was arranged.

“It would be ever so much easier to get meals here than in the Corner House,” was Ruth’s opinion.

“Do you think so?” asked the lawyer.

“Yes, everything is so handy. You hardly have to take a step to reach anything,” added Agnes. “You only have to turn from the stove to the sink, and another turn and you have everything you want, from a toasting fork to an egg beater,” and she indicated the different kitchen utensils hanging in a rack over the stove.

“I’m glad you like it,” said Mr. Howbridge, and Ruth found herself wondering why he said that.

They passed into the sleeping quarters where small bunks, almost like those in Pullman cars, were neatly arranged, even to a white counterpane and pillow shams on each one.

“Oh, how lovely.”