"They'll have their war canoe in the water in a few days, will
they?" the lawyer's son muttered. "Humph!"

Through the side streets he went, keeping a sharp lookout. Conscious
of the fact that he was bent on an unworthy errand, Fred did not
care to be recognized abroad at this unusual hour.

In a few minutes he had reached the boatyard. This was surrounded
by a high board fence, and the gate was locked.

"It won't do to get over the fence," young Ripley decided. "I
might be seen and watched. But I know a way."

At one corner of the yard the fence ran almost, though not quite
to the bank of the river.

Keeping well within the shadow of the fence, young Ripley hastened
toward this point.

Here the amount of space was not sufficient for him to step around
the end of the fence. However, by grasping it on both sides Fred
could swing himself around it and into the boatyard. He did so
with ease, then halted, peering cautiously about the yard.

"No one here," the lawyer's son decided at last. "Whew! I wouldn't
dare even to stumble over a tramp taking a nap here. This is
ticklish business, or it would be if I were caught here. Now,
where is the canoe?"

Early in the evening the moon had shone, but now the stars gave