He was clad in flannel, jeans, and cowhide boots, and was
evidently of a different class from Mr. Gilder, who appeared to be a
gentleman, and was dressed as one. "What's up, Plater?" asked the
latter.
"Big raft, three shanties on it, in false channel, saddle-bagged on the
reef pretty nigh abreast of camp. Can't see nobody aboard. Reckon she
broke adrift from somewheres while her crew was off on a frolic."
"You don't say so!" cried Mr. Gilder, excitedly. "Perhaps it's the
very thing we are most in need of, sent by a special providence to
crown our labors with success. I'll go down and have a look at her,
while you stay here and help Grim pack up the stuff. We might as well
be prepared for a sudden move, and he'll tell you what we have just
been talking about."
So Mr. Gilder, donning his rubber coat, a garment that Plater would
have scorned to wear, left the clearing through another bushy thicket
on the opposite side from that by which his confederate had entered it.
An almost undiscernible path led him to the shore of the island that
was washed by the main channel of the river. Here he struck into a
plainly marked trail that followed the water's edge. In this trail Mr.
Gilder walked to the southern end of the island, and up its other side
until he reached a comfortable camp that bore signs of long occupancy.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61