a fire in the little stove, for he was very chilly.
And there he crouched, leaving the work of looking after the sail to
his companion. Selfishness bulked large in his nature, and this was
never more apparent than now. His own comfort was the first
consideration, no matter how much others might suffer.

After midnight the last clouds rolled away and the stars appeared. The
gale subsided to a fair sailing breeze, and the "Eb and Flo" ploughed
steadily on her way. Eben was tired as he stood hour after hour at the
wheel, and he knew from the motion of the man tending the sail that he
too was weary. There was nothing else, however, for them to do, and so
without a word of complaint each kept at his task.

Dawn found them at the entrance to Grand Bay, the largest body of water
in the entire river. From here a long close-hauled tack would bring
them to the Narrows, a rocky gorge-like formation leading to the noted
Reversible Falls below. The tide now was running down, and this
greatly aided the boat in her onward sweep. Far away in the east the
sky rapidly reddened, and the light of a new day was dispelling the
shades of night. Eben's heart caught the glow of the rising sun, and a
spirit of elation possessed him. He had brought the boat in safety
this far, and in another hour he hoped to have her tied up at one of
the wharves, ready to slip through the falls when the tide served.

Just before entering the Narrows, Eben called Donaster up from the
cabin. He had to shout several times before he received any response,
for the man had fallen asleep in his chair. He stumbled sleepily on
deck and looked around.

"Why, we're almost to the city!" he exclaimed.

"Sure. Ye didn't imagine we was tied up to a tree, did ye?"

Donaster walked to the side of the boat and looked over.

"I forgot all about the motor-boat last night," he remarked. "But I
see it hung fast all right."

"An' a wonder it did," Eben replied. "The rope must have been a good
one. It held better 'n the anchor. Guess it's gone fer sure."

"Chain break?" Donaster queried.

"Something's gone, that's certain. We're not draggin' the anchor,
anyway. We couldn't git this fer with the anchor towin' below. It
would have caught in something or other an' brought us up if it had
been there. But it ain't there. The chain must have snapped an' let
the boat go adrift. It broke once before an' dad fixed it with a piece
of wire. Now we've got to buy