A structure with a
door and windows, that was somewhat larger than the pilot-house, rose
from the upper deck near its after-end. There were three doors on each
side of the main house, a large one well forward, a small one nearly
amidship, and another large one well aft. There were also six small
windows on each side, and from three of those nearest Winn a cheerful
light was streaming, while the other three were dark. There was a name
painted on the boat's side in such large black letters that even in the
fading twilight Winn managed to read it--"_W-H-A-T-N-O-T_," he spelled
slowly--"_Whatnot_! Well, if that isn't the queerest name for a boat I
ever heard of!"
Just then, however, there were things of far greater importance to a boy
in his situation than queer names. The tantalizing odors that were
pouring from that after-window, for instance, and the sound of voices
that rang out merrily from the two just beyond it. The boat was moored
to a tree, with her bows pointed up-stream, and had swung in so close to
shore that by standing on a half-submerged log, which served as a fender
to keep her off a few feet from the bank, Winn could look into one of the
open windows. It was evidently that of the galley, for the odor of
frying came from it, and half hidden in a cloud of fragrant steam was the
form of a negro bending over a small stove.
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