Quincy Allen - The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat - or, The Rivals of the Mississippi

“Well,” said Jerry, “you know what I said about his having something hidden aboard, that this other fellow knew about, and wanted. I still stick to that, more than ever; and I’m never going to rest till I find out.”

“Just like you, Jerry,” remarked Frank; “like as not you’ll be wanting to tear away the whole inside planking piece by piece, in hopes of making a discovery. There never was such a fellow for investigating things; and there never will be again.”

“Sure,” replied the other, with a grin. “But when do we get our duffle aboard, fellows? Can’t start any too soon to please me.”

The disappointment had been keen, for Bluff and Jerry had foolishly indulged in all manner of extravagant ideas concerning the luxuries they expected to find on board a houseboat owned by a rich man like Uncle Felix; but after all they were sensible boys, and could extract a lot of fun out of very small material.

The main thing was that they had a boat, strong and serviceable, to bear them on the long voyage; plenty of money with which to purchase provisions; and the whole summer before them in which to make the trip.

Imagination, such as is always rampant in the mind of a boy, did the rest. They could anticipate all manner of glorious adventures as taking place before their distant destination was reached.

Frank was ready to settle that matter without delay.

“I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t move out of here before night comes,” he remarked. “Bluff could see to getting all our stuff aboard, while some of the rest accompanied me to buy the provisions. They’ll deliver the stuff here right away; and then we can cut loose. We’ve got clothes and ammunition and all such things, including blankets for the crowd.”

“Hurrah! I’ll get a move on right away, and yank that lot of bags down here in a jiffy,” declared Bluff, always ready to do things in a hurry.

“Well,” remarked Mr. Whittaker, “I reckon you boys expect to have a great time of it this summer; and if I was some years younger I’d just like to be along with you. From the way you talk I rather imagine this isn’t the first trip you four’ve taken in company.”

At that the boys looked at each other and laughed.

“What the Outdoor Chums have gone through with would fill lots of books,” Frank took occasion to remark; “and if I had the time I’d like to tell you a few of the good times we’ve had together. But we’ve got to get a hustle on if we want to drop down the river this afternoon; because there’s always lots to do at the last minute. Off you go, Bluff; and Will, you come with me. I think Jerry had better help Bluff manage the luggage.”

And so they separated, each couple going about the business in hand with the energy boys can always display when they expect to have a good time.

“Be mighty careful with my camera case,” called out Will, after the others. “If anything happened to that tool of mine, you’d never hear the last of it. And then, however would we get any pictures of the queer things that happen by the way? I expect to snap off some striking views of you fellows doing stunts. Remember some of the ones we’ve got in the album at home?”

“Just forget about them right now,” answered Bluff, who knew that he himself figured in not a few of them, often in rather undignified attitudes, for instance where the wide-awake artist had happened to catch him sitting astride a limb, with an angry bull below.

Within two hours they had come back again to the boatyard; and Bluff, with the help of Jerry, managed to get aboard all their traps, brought from home.

“Good, there’s going to be plenty of room,” Bluff declared, as he tugged several of the last bundles up the gang-plank leading to the deck of the boat; “because we carry enough duffle to sink a small boat – guns, cooking utensils, blankets, clothes bags with changes of woolens, photographic stuff by the bushel. And there come Frank and Will, loaded to the gunwales with packages, too.”

“Is that all the grub we’re going to stack up with, for a voyage that may take four or six weeks?” demanded Jerry, in dismay, when the newcomers put their packages down aboard the houseboat.

“Oh! dear me, no,” said Will; “these are only the little extras we picked up on the way here; fruit and cakes, and some things we happened to forget in the grocery. The wagon-load will be along shortly now.”

“That sounds about right,” declared Jerry. “Honest, now, I’m that hungry a wagon-load of grub has the proper sort of ring, because I think I can make away with the entire collection at a sitting. Bring on your whole ham, and a dozen or two fried eggs. Think of the delicious coffee our friend Bluff here used to make, when he got his hand in. Oh! how can I wait till we’re afloat, for supper to come along?”

“Well, there’s the wagon right now,” said Frank; “so we needn’t be long in having Mr. Whittaker set us afloat on the river. After that some of us will have to man the big sweep here, and guide the boat.”

“And think of us wise ones figuring on having an engine to do all the work?” exclaimed Jerry, throwing up his hands. “But Bluff here has got a nice little surprise for you, boys.”

“What is it, Bluff?” asked Will, eagerly.

“It’s about a name for our new craft,” replied the other, with a knowing look on his face. “You see, we had it all made up to call her the Paragon or perhaps the Wanderer. But, fellows, after setting my eyes on the condition of affairs here, it struck me that names like those would be sort of out of order. And while Jerry was waiting to see the rest of our things loaded on the wagon, I just stepped into a paint shop, and had him fix me up something on a neat little board. This goes over the door here, and can be read half a mile away. Now, hold your breath, boys!”

With that he began to undo a package he had brought, and which was carefully tied up in brown paper. Whipping the long narrow board free, presently Bluff held it up to the very spot where he had declared he meant to fasten it with nails. And as the others read what he had had painted on the signboard, they gave a shout of appreciation, for the name seemed to just hit the right chord.

It was “Pot Luck!”

“What do you think of it, boys?” asked Bluff, as he stood there, still holding up the board over the cabin door.

“Couldn’t have picked out a better name if you’d looked over the whole dictionary,” declared Frank. “It strikes right at the heart of things.”

“We’re sure going to take pot-luck while we’re aboard this jolly rover!” remarked Jerry, with a rollicking laugh, as he swept his hand around at the bare condition of the cabin’s interior. “Your uncle must have known what sort of boys we were, and how we’d manage to get along with a makeshift boat.”

“Well,” said Bluff, “I’m glad you like my choice. Just happened to think of it, you know; and seemed like it covered our case. And so Pot Luck goes; eh, boys?”

“There’s a hammer, and some nails on a shelf inside here, so you can hang it up where it belongs in a jiffy,” remarked Will, darting inside to bring the articles he mentioned to Bluff, who was still standing there with his arms extended.

And a few lusty blows from the hammer served to fasten the board up securely.

“Hurrah! three cheers for the good old Pot Luck! ” cried Jerry; and they were given with a will, much to the amusement of some ship carpenters repairing a tugboat near by.

“If we had our flag hoisted now,” observed Bluff, “I’d dip the colors to the christening of the houseboat. As it is, we take off our hats to her.”