hing ever
heard in his life, a merry peal of clear girlish laughter. Not only
that, but it sounded so close at hand that the boy sprang to his feet
and gazed eagerly in the direction from which it came, fully expecting
to see its author standing near him.

CHAPTER XIV.

A PEAL OF GIRLISH LAUGHTER.

In vain did Winn gaze in every direction, up and down the river, across
its darkening waters, and into the shadowy thicket behind him. There
were no objects in sight, save those with which he was already only too
familiar. Again he began to doubt the evidence of his senses, and wonder
if his mind had not become somewhat unsettled by his misfortunes. But
no, there was the ringing peal of laughter again. This time it was
accompanied by a strange chattering sound such as he had never heard
before. At the same moment a most delicious whiff of frying bacon
reached the hungry boy, mingled with the unmistakable and equally
enticing odor of coffee. There was no doubt as to the direction from
which these came, and plunging into the cotton-wood thicket, Winn made
his way diagonally up and across the tow-head.

In less than a minute he reached its opposite side, where he halted to
gaze with amazement at the very strangest-looking craft he had ever seen.
At first he thought it a small stern-wheeled steamboat. She certainly
had such a wheel, but then there was no chimney. Perhaps she was a
trading-scow. Who ever heard, though, of a trading-scow with a
pilot-house such as this nondescript craft had on the forward end of its
upper deck? Besides, there were no sweeps, nor was she in the least like
any trading-scow Winn had ever seen. A low house occupied her entire
width, and extended along her whole length except at the curve of her
bows, where there was room left for a small deck. A structure with a
door and windows, that was somewhat larger than the pilot-house, rose
from the upper deck near its after-end. There were three doors on each
side of the main house, a large one well forward, a small one nearly
amidship, and another large one well aft. There were also six small
windows on each side, and from three of those nearest Winn a cheerful
light was streaming, while the other three were dark. There was a name
painted on the boat's side in such large black letters that even in the
fading twilight Winn managed to read it--"_W-H-A-T-N-O-T_," he spelled
slowly--"_Whatnot_! Well, if that isn't the queerest name for a