"There's the tub," he said, pointing toward what appeared, at first
glance, to be a huge box. "That is it."

The girls walked out on the dock and stood gazing at the boat. In the
first place, the "Red Rover" was not red at all. It had once had a prime
coat of yellow paint, but this had succumbed to storm and sunshine. The
windows had been boarded up; and the exterior of the craft bore out all
that Dee Dickinson had said of it.

"Thirty feet on the water line," explained the man, for want of
something better to say.

The boat, originally, had been a scow used for the purpose of towing the
effects of summer residents of the island across the lake. Bert Elting
had bought it for a small sum of money, and had built the house over it.
He and a friend, had spent many days and nights aboard, anchored out on
the fishing grounds. When they desired to change their location a launch
usually could be found to tow them about.

At each end of the house there was a cockpit some three feet long. In
other words the house did not extend the full length of the boat. At the
rear there was a long-handed tiller. The boat was flat as a floor.

"If the inside is as handsome as the outside, we shall have the
nightmare all the time," declared Margery.

"We had better look at the inside," reflected Miss Elting.

There were doors at each end. The girls entered by the rear door.