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Updated: July 16, 2025
The houseboat moved so slowly, and was such a safe craft, that Bert and Harry were allowed to steer at times, when Mr. Bobbsey or Captain White stood near them in case of any danger. The two boy cousins had taken turns steering, until the Bluebird was close to the place where Lemby Creek emptied into Lake Metoka. "You'd better let me take the steering wheel, now," said Mr. Bobbsey to Bert.
Murphy walked down the bank of the creek to the farm. They found Mr. Hardee mending a broken harness. "Mr. Hardee," said Mr. Murphy, "I hear you have put a wire fence across Lemby Creek, so my friend, Mr. Bobbsey, can't get past with his houseboat." "Yes, I have," growled the farmer, "and that fence is going to stay up, too!
"If the boat gets on fire I can put it out." "Boats can't get on fire in the water!" declared Flossie. "They can so can't they, papa?" appealed the little boy. "Well, sometimes, perhaps. But we hope ours doesn't," replied Mr. Bobbsey with a smile. He led the way off the boat, and as Will was about to walk on along the lake shore, on his return to Lemby, Mrs.
Bobbsey, for the place where the boat was tied was a long distance from the main road leading from Lakeport to Lemby. "I didn't come in a wagon," said the boy. "I walked." "What! You don't mean to say you walked all the way from Lemby to Lakeport?" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, who had now come up on deck. "Yes'm, I did," answered the boy. "Mr. Hardee said he needed the horses to work on the farm.
"Why not?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey. "Nothing has happened to the boat, has there, Richard?" "No, not to the boat. But look there!" and Mr. Bobbsey pointed ahead. Stretched across a narrow part of Lemby Creek was a strong wire fence, fastened to posts driven into the bottom of the stream. The Bluebird could go no farther on her voyage. The fence stopped her. As Mr.
"I was," said the lumber merchant, "but I came back." "Back so soon? Didn't you like it?" "Oh, yes, first rate. But we can't go any farther." "Can't go any farther? What's the matter, did your boat sink?" "No, but we're stuck in Lemby Creek. Mr. Hardee, a farmer who owns land on both sides of the creek, has put a wire fence across to stop us from going on to Lake Romano." "Is that so!
Hardee doesn't feed his help any too well," spoke Mr. Bobbsey. "But now let's talk about our houseboat trip." "Oh, what fun we'll have!" cried Freddie and Flossie, clapping their chubby hands. "Did you plan a trip?" Mrs. Bobbsey wanted to know. "Well, partly, yes. I thought we could go down Lake Metoka to Lemby Creek. We haven't been down that direction in some time."
The twins' father rather hoped that the hired boy might slip down to the houseboat that evening, with his uncle's address, but nothing was seen of him. In the morning a strange thing happened. Mr. Bobbsey and Captain White decided that it would be better to take the boat a little farther down Lemby Creek, and tie it fast to the bank in a more shady spot than the one opposite the farm buildings.
"Did you manage to get that poor boy a ride?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey. It was the first time she had had a chance to ask her question. "Answer mamma first," said Bert politely. "The rest of us can wait." Mr. Bobbsey gave his older son a pleased look, and then replied: "Yes, I found that one of our lumber wagons was going within half a mile of the village of Lemby, so I let the boy ride with the driver.
He had a nice face, and was quite clean, though his clothes were ragged and poor. "Come along down if you like," said Bert kindly. "There's a lot to see below the deck." With a friendly nod of his head Will Watson followed the three children. Nan stayed on deck with her parents. "It's a shame to make him walk all the way from Lemby here and back," said Mrs. Bobbsey.
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