Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp by Percy Keese Fitzhugh
page 11 of 185 (05%)
page 11 of 185 (05%)
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all, only lights, moving a little on account of the boats rocking.
In a little while I heard oars splashing and the sound seemed to be coming nearer and nearer, so I knew it was the first boat-load of fellows coming back. I thought it was awful soon for them to be getting back. It seemed funny that they weren't talking, especially if it was the Raving Ravens (that's what we call the Raven Patrol) because Pee-wee Harris would be sure to be running on high. That's the way he always does, especially coming home from the movies. And if it was the Elk Patrol I'd be sure to hear Bert McAlpin because he's a human victrola record. Pretty soon I could make out a black spot coming nearer and then I knew for sure it was headed for the house-boat. But there wasn't any sound except the splashing of the oars and I thought that was mighty funny. In a couple of minutes the boat came alongside and I heard someone say, "_Pst_" very quiet like. I went and looked over the rail and there I saw a fellow all alone in a rowboat. I couldn't see him very well, but I could see he had on an old hat and was pretty shabby. Then he sort of whispered, "Anybody up there, Skeezeks?" I told him no, and asked him who he was and what he wanted, but he didn't say anything, only tied his boat, and climbed up over the rail. Then I could see him better by the light shining through the cabin window, and his clothes were all ragged and greasy. He looked pretty tough, but one thing, anyway, he smiled an awful nice kind of a smile and hit me a whack on the shoulder and said: "Don't get excited, Skeezeks; you're all right and I won't hurt you. How are you, anyway?" |
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