Part 6 (2/2)
”Looks to me like a tramp's hat,” remarked Will, as he bent closer to examine. ”But see here, Frank, there's some marks inside; aren't there?”
”Letters, too,” echoed Jerry, crowding closer.
Frank held up the hat so that the light from his torch would cover the inside; and there, sure enough, the boys discovered three letters fastened to the crown of the old felt head covering.
They stared at them as if hardly able to believe their eyes, and there was a good reason for this, since the letters were:
M. T. S.
”My goodness!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Will, he being the first to recover his breath; and what he said seemed to voice the sentiments of his chums, for they were all of one mind there; ”M. T. S. it says, fellows; and don't you see those letters stand for Marcus Stackpole, the very man Uncle Felix warned us never to let come aboard of his houseboat! And here he's tried to break in the very first night we're on the river!
Don't it beat everything though, what it all means?”
CHAPTER VII-ANOTHER CARELESS PILOT
When the four chums went back into the cabin their faces were a little grave. It was not only Will who was wondering now what the nature of the difference between old Uncle Felix and this strange Marcus Stackpole could be, that made the owner of the houseboat seem to detest the other so much, and he on his part appear so much in earnest to get aboard the _Pot Luck_.
”Locked the door again; did you, Frank?” Jerry asked, as they sat down for a little talk in the cabin, with the lantern placed on the table.
”You can make up your mind he did,” replied Will; ”and I tried it in the bargain, to make sure it was fast. You see, we don't know what sort of a fellow this Stackpole might turn out to be. Uncle is afraid of him somehow. And it seems to me he must have something on board the old boat that this Marcus, somehow, wants pretty bad, if he's willing to take such chances to get it.”
”There you are!” exclaimed Jerry, quickly; ”the more you think about it, the stronger you'll believe my idea is, that there must be some sort of a treasure hid about here, and this Marcus wants to get his hands on the same. Laugh at me again, now, will you, when I'm sounding the walls, and peeking into corners? I'm going to keep it up till I find out I'm on the wrong tack; then I'll go about.”
But all of them soon grew sleepy again, and Frank suggested that they turn in.
”I don't believe he'll come back to-night, anyhow,” he remarked, as he began to get himself ready for bed again. ”That sudden shot so close to his ears must have frightened Marcus some. Perhaps he even thought I was trying to fill him full of Number Sevens at short range.”
”Oh! wouldn't I have liked to see him skipping up the bank, though,”
sighed Will, who seemed to miss so many splendid views, from one cause or another.
”Well, maybe another time you'll get that chance,” said Jerry, consolingly, as he got into his upper berth; having placed his repeating shotgun on a couple of large nails which seemed to have been driven into the wall conveniently near, as if for this very purpose.
Presently Frank ”doused the glim,” by blowing out the lantern; and once more darkness and silence reigned in the cabin of the _Pot Luck_.
Nor was there any further disturbance that night. With the coming of daylight through the small windows facing the east Frank was astir; and, hearing him moving, first one, and then another of his chums began to yawn and stretch.
”Everything all right, Frank?” asked Will, crawling from his bunk.
”Seems like it,” was the reply.
”What do we want to do first?” asked Bluff, sliding down from above.
”Well, for my part, I feel like taking a morning dip,” Frank answered.
”That sounds good to me, too!” called out Jerry, poking his head out after the manner of a cautious old tortoise.
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