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From what Elmer had learned through Johnny Spreen, it was possible to navigate a fair portion of the swamp with a boat. They had several flat-bottomed skiffs that were used for that purpose, usually by the boy in his fur-hunting expeditions during the fall and winter seasons. Unfortunately, things were so much behind at the farm that Johnny could not be spared to accompany them.
Their arrival created something of a sensation. Dogs began to bark, roosters to crow, cows to moo, and even a donkey started to bray in a fearful fashion. Immediately Johnny Spreen, the boy who trapped muskrats in the winter, came running out from the big barn where he was probably milking some of the cows, for he held a three-legged stool in one hand as though it might be a weapon of defense.
You know who he is, Johnny Spreen, the fellow who always ships out a raft of dried ginseng roots every year, and in the Spring sends a bunch of muskrat skins to the city." "Sure we know Johnny," assented Toby, quickly; "he comes to town with a load of hay once every two weeks. His folks live a long ways off, up beyond the two lakes where we used to go camping."
"And it's up to us to divide our forces, choose our boats, and make a start," Mark Cummings was saying. "Ginger! don't I on'y wish I cud be goin' along!" said Johnny Spreen with an expression on his face that could only be described as compound disappointment.
"They didn't happen to turn this way," said Elmer; "and since you all kept so still I don't believe they'd have noticed us even if they had looked. I want to say it was well done, boys." "That was Johnny Spreen, wasn't it?" asked Landy, as though he wanted to have someone corroborate what his own eyes had told him. "It certainly was," said Lil Artha.
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