see, this old boat could be cleaned and painted, and any good carpenter
could put up the extra rooms."

"Right you are, Madge," Jack answered at last, making a low bow. "Hats
off to the ladies, as usual. Who is that queer-looking customer coming
this way?"

"He is the man who is to see about our canal boat," answered Phil, as
though they were already in possession.

Madge had gone forward. "Have you found the boat for us?" she
inquired. "I simply can't wait to find out."

The man grinned. "There is one towed alongside of mine that you might
be able to git. I had a hard time finding it."

"That is all right," declared Jack, stepping forward, "you will be paid
for your work. Will you please take us out to look at the boat?"

"Got to cross my shanty to git to it," the man replied, leading the way
across a rickety gang-plank.

There were three or four dirty children playing on the deck of his boat
and a thin, yellow dog. At the open door of the shanty kitchen stood
the figure of a girl. She had on the faded calico dress of the day
before; she was barefooted and her hair was ragged and unkempt. But as
Jack Bolling and the four girls glanced idly at her a start of surprise
ran through each one of these. Jack stopped for an instant, and
instinctively took off his hat. Phil Alden whispered in Madge's ear,
"I never saw any one so beautiful in my life," and Madge mutely agreed.