"We'll keep out if we are left alone," said the doctor's son, grimly.

Whopper had brought with him an old tin pail containing some hot
water and half a pound of flour. This was stirred up into a thick
flour paste, and to give it the "proper flavor," as Snap suggested,
they broke into the mixture two ancient eggs which one of the party
had picked up.

Joe Bright had been sent away, with instructions to say nothing
about what was going on at the boathouse, and soon Whopper followed
him. Then Snap and Shep went into the building and locked the
door behind them.

The structure was a one-story affair, with a small loft overhead,
for the storage of extra oars and odds and ends of boat lumber.
Up into the loft went the two boys and opened the tiny window
at either end---thus letting in some needed fresh air. Then they
took the rank-smelling flour paste and poured half of the stuff
into an old paint can that was handy.

"Let us take turns at resting," suggested Snap, and so it was
arranged.

It was a calm, clear night and before long the town was wrapped in
slumber, and only the occasional bark of a dog or yowl of a cat
broke the stillness. Out on the river nothing was stirring.

It was after midnight, and Snap had almost reached the conclusion
that the alarm had been a false one, when, looking from one of the