CHAPTER XXXII

I MAKE A DANDY FRIEND

That was the first time I ever rode in a tug-boat, and believe me, it was great.  I stood right beside the wheel in that little house and pointed out the channel to Captain Savage all the way up to North Bridgeboro.  That’s one thing I sure know—­the channel.  Anyway, if you don’t know it, follow the abrupt shore.  But with a tug-boat, good night, you have to be careful because a tug ’draws so much water.  He was going up there after a lumber barge, he said.

First, he didn’t say anything, only smoked, and it was like a fog in there.  Pretty soon he said:  “So you youngsters don’t take nuthin’ fer services, huh?”

“We have to do a good turn if we see a chance,” I told him.

Then he wanted to know all about the scouts, how they were divided into troops and patrols and everything, and after I told him all that, we got to talking about our vacation and about Temple Camp, and especially about the house-boat.  I asked him if he thought a three horsepower engine would drive the house-boat up the Hudson, so we could get as far as Catskill Landing in a couple of weeks.

He said, “It would be more like a couple of years, I reckon.”

“Good night!” I said, “if it takes us two years to get there and we have to be home inside of a month, I see our finish.  I suppose it costs a lot of money to get towed.”

He said, “Wall now, whin I bring in a Cunarder and back her into her stall, it stands them in a few pennies.”

“You said something,” I told him.

“’N I don’t suppose your troop has got as much money as the Cunard Line,” he said.

“Gee, we’ve only got about four dollars now,” I told him; “I suppose we couldn’t get towed as much as a mile for that, hey?”

“Wall, four dollars don’t go as far as it used ter,” he said; “maybe it would go a half a mile.”

Then he, didn’t say anything, only puffed and puffed and puffed on his pipe, and kept looking straight ahead of him, and turning the wheel ever so little.  After a while he said there wasn’t water enough in our river to drown a gold fish, and he didn’t know why we called it a river at all.  He said he couldn’t imagine what the tide was thinking about to waste its time coming up such a river.  He said if a bird took a drink in the river while he was upstream, it would leave him on the flats.  He was awful funny, but he never smiled.

Illustration #5

“Roy dived after the key-bar”

When we got up to the mill at North Bridgeboro, he got the barge and started downstream with the barge alongside.  All the while he kept asking me about the scouts, and I told him about Skinny, and how we were going to take him up to Temple Camp with us, so he could get better, maybe.

Then for quite a while he didn’t say anything, only puffed away and pretty soon we could see the bridge and I knew we’d have to open it again.