They spent a quiet day. They would have liked to go ashore and tramp, but didn’t dare leave the boat lest the relentless Mr. Ewing should descend upon it in their absence. So, instead, they read and wrote letters on the upper deck under the awning, which was stretched for the first time. To be sure, they had been away from home only two days, but, as Roy pointed out, more had happened to write about during those two days than was likely to happen in the next two weeks, and they might as well make the most of it. The quiet lasted until about four o’clock when Whiting’s thunder-storm, which had been growling menacingly for an hour or more, descended upon them in full fury. There was a busy time getting the awning down again, and then, somewhat damp, they retreated to the forward cabin and watched the rain lash the river and listened to the roaring of the storm. It was all over in half an hour, leaving the air cool and refreshing. They had a good supper and afterward, at about eight, pulled up anchor and headed the _Slow Poke_ diagonally down the river until it was opposite the place where Chub had undressed and left his coat. There Chub jumped into the tender and rowed ashore. The others watched anxiously while the _Slow Poke_ sauntered along with the current but in five minutes Chub was back again, his clothes in a bundle in the bottom of the tender. “Didn’t see a soul,” he answered in response to the questions of the others. “Start her up, Dick, and we’ll go back.” It wasn’t so easy to sleep that night, for the trains went rushing by on an average of every half hour, shrieking and clattering. But they managed to doze off at intervals until well toward morning when, having become inured to the racket, they slept soundly until the alarm-clock in Chub’s bedroom went off. “I move you,” said Chub at breakfast, “that we get out of this vicinity as soon as we can. I’ve had enough excitement to last me for a month. I’m for the silent reaches and the simple life!” CHAPTER XIII CHUB TRIES A NEW BAIT