When they reached the Bumstead Lock this afternoon there was a chance for the girl to leave the mules grazing beside the towpath while the water rose slowly in the basin, and she could board the boat and talk with Cap'n Bill. The hound, awakened by her approach, began sniffing around the edge of the forward hatch cover. "Wonder what Beauty smells there?" Louise said idly. But her mind was on something else. The captain shook his head without much reflection and, now more thoroughly awakened, lit his pipe again. "I say, Pap!" "Wal, Lowise?" he drawled. "We're going to lay up to-night short of the soapworks at Durginville." "Heh?" he demanded, somewhat surprised, but still drawling. "What for, Lowise?" "I want to hitch there by the Lawton Pike." "Lawsy, Lowise! you don't wanter do no sech thing," said Cap'n Bill. "Yes I do, Pap." "Too many folks goin' to be there. A slather of folks, Lowise. Why! the circus grounds is right there. This is the day, ain't it?" "That's it, Pap. I want to see the circus." "Lawsy, Lowise!" the man stammered. "Circuses ain't for we folks." "Yes they are, Pap." "Ain't never been to one in all my life, Lowise," Cap'n Bill said reflectively. "No more ain't I," agreed the girl. "But I'm goin' to this one." "You goin'?" he demanded, his amazement growing. "Yes. And you're goin' too, Pap." "Git out!" gasped Cap'n Bill, actually forgetting to pull on his pipe. "Yes, you are," declared Louise Quigg, nodding her head. "I've got the two half dollars. Beauty will stay and mind the boat. I jest got a taste in my mouth for that circus. Seems to me, Pap, I'd jest _die_ if I didn't see it." "Lawsy, Lowise!" murmured Captain Bill Quigg, and was too amazed to say anything more for an hour. The _Nancy Hanks_ got through the lock and the mules picked up the slack of the towrope again at Louise's vigorous suggestion. Inside the hold Sammy and Dot both wondered about the stopping of the boat. Dot was awakened by this. "Sammy," she murmured, "is it morning? Have we been here all night?" "I--I guess not, Dot. It can't be morning. Are you hungry?" "No-o. I guess not," confessed the little girl. "Then it can't be morning," Sammy declared, for what better time-keeper can there be than a child's stomach? "But aren't they going to let us out--not ever, Sammy?" wailed the little girl. "Pshaw! Of course they will. Some time they'll want to load up this old boat. And then they'll have to open the door up there in the deck. So we'll get out." "But--but suppose it should be a long, long time?" breathed Dot, thrilled with the awfulness of the thought. "We got plenty to eat," Sammy said stoutly. "Not now we haven't, Sammy," Dot reminded him. "We ate a lot." "But there's all the potatoes--"