not know
what to do. His only hope lay in a heavy rain which would cause the
river to rise enough to float the boat. That, however, was not a very
bright outlook, for such a boon could hardly be expected during the
summer. It was only in the fall when the heavy rains set in, and then
it would be too late for much work. And besides, he would lose the
carrying of the stones from the quarry. There was not much cordwood to
be taken to the city, and most of the lumber from the mills was now
being freighted in scows.

And thus he watched and waited, his anxious thoughts, and the pain in
his foot driving all sleep from his eyes. Eagerly he listened to the
clock as it ticked on the shelf across the room, and struck out the
heavy-footed hours. Never did any night seem so long. Often he had
sailed on the river from sunset to sunrise, and thought nothing of it.
He had something to occupy his attention then. But now he had nothing
to do but lie there and wait.

When at last the first faint signs of dawn began to steal into the
room, the captain lifted himself to a sitting position and looked out
of the window. But nothing could he see, for the river still lay
enwrapped in the shadows of the hills beyond. Impatiently he waited,
and at length he was enabled to view quite clearly the water as it
stretched out before him. Eagerly his eyes searched for the "Eb and
Flo," but not a sign of her could he behold. Nothing but the flats on
the other side of the river met his view. What did it all mean? he
asked himself. Where was the boat? A mingled feeling of curiosity,
hope and anxiety possessed him, and only with the greatest difficulty
could he restrain his impatience until his wife came downstairs.

"She's gone, Martha!" he shouted, as soon as his wife entered the room.
"She's nowhere in sight."

"What! The boat?" Mrs. Tobin replied, as she hurried to the window and
peered out. She stood for a few seconds, looking up and down the
river. Then she turned to her husband with an anxious expression upon
her face.

"Do you suppose she's sunk, Sam'l?"

"Sunk; no. If she'd gone down, Eben would have come ashore in the
tender. Mebbe he's managed to git her under way, an' taken her down
river. Ye kin never tell what that boy might do. Jist scoot over an'
ask John to go to the store an' phone to the city. Tell him to call up
Jimmy Gault at Injuntown. He's a good friend of mine, an' he'll know
if the 'Eb an' Flo's' d