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Updated: June 7, 2025
Keeping his eyes turned toward the black, floating object, Dick swam easily to the spot. The black object floated under the open sidewall into the boathouse. Just as Dick got there he dived, duck fashion, head first, and passed to the interior of the boathouse at the river end. As he came up inside Dick's first discovery was that of artificial light in the boathouse.
"Well, if you insist," replied Jack, "but it seems to me we have had more than our share of bad luck for one day. First our boat is stolen, then our clothes are locked up. Who would think that that old boathouse man would go to bed so early."
Tessie plumped the heavy lunch box into his arms. "When you get a line you like you stick to it, don't you?" Down at the boathouse even Tessie, who had confessed ignorance of boats and oars, knew that Ballou was fumbling clumsily. He stooped to adjust the oars to the oarlocks. His hat was off. His hair looked very gray in the cruel spring sunshine. He straightened and smiled up at her.
John need carry only himself," said our hero. "I am certain I can beat him. I dare him to take me up." There seemed no help for it, so St. John gave in, and soon the three were on the way to Old Ben's boathouse. "I think this is a very foolish proceeding," observed St. John as they walked along. "I think it's going to be lots of fun," replied Marion.
I shall just pull as far as the boathouse and get myself a cup of tea." Because it always seems to be his Day. There is no sense of happy medium about the hero of the popular novel. He cannot get astride a horse without its going off and winning a steeplechase against the favourite. The crowd in Novel-land appears to have no power of observation.
Harley and Chris Smith, the boathouse man, and Captain Jenks, all very glad to see them and glad that Dot's ducking had not been worse. The captain had several other passengers to another island on this trip. "I'll be over in a day or two," said Mr. Harley, as the children boarded The Sarah. "Might as well look around the place once in a while."
That afternoon I was alone in my haven of refuge, the boathouse. Mother and I had had a long talk. I told her everything that had transpired. I kept back nothing, either of my acts or my feelings. She said she was not sorry for what I had done. She was rather glad, than otherwise, that I had disclosed our secret to Mr. Colton. "He knows now, Roscoe," she said. "And he was right, too.
Chamilly took his skiff from the boathouse himself, and was soon pulling swiftly from the shore, while as they got out upon it the vastness and power of the stream became apparent. From its broad surface the mists began to rise gracefully in long drifts, moved by the early winds and partly obscuring the distant shores, whose fringe of little shut up houses still suggested slumber.
"Perhaps I was," replied the other; "but here we are at the door now, and as I've got my key handy, I'll open up." The boathouse had once been some sort of low, squatty building, which, being made over, answered the new purpose very well. And when Max had started a couple of lamps to burning the prospect was cheery enough. Several canoes were ranged in racks along one side.
And just look at those dear little terraces which lead down to the boathouse on one of them a strawberry bed, on the other a garden, on the last a grape arbor, and then the boathouse, the wharf and look a lovely little boat tied to the float it's just perfect!"
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