er
ashore, though Josh kept as anxious eye on those dark clouds overhead
while he worked.

"It's going to prove a big fizzle after all," remarked Nick, after a
little water had come down, and the moon peeped out of a break in the
clouds.

"Perhaps so; you never can tell what the weather will do," Jack
laughed. "But all the same we'll be apt to sleep aboard again, for
fear it does rain before morning."

"You bet we will," remarked Herb; "at least this chicken does. Ugh!
I'd wake up, and think a raft of snakes was creeping out of that old
swamp there. Are you all of the same mind about bunking aboard?"

"If anybody will go me, I'll stay ashore," announced Nick, to the
surprise of his chums; but then they knew the narrow confines of the
speed boat cramped his ample form, and that explained his boldness.
"That is, if George will only let me have his gun too."

"Sure I will, and only too glad," declared that worthy, eagerly. "I'd
like to stretch all over the bally old boat myself, for once."

Jimmy took up Nick's offer, and so Jack set to work making them a rude
sort of canopy that was calculated to shed water fairly well. It was
composed of branches from nearby trees, and might be called a hunter's
lean-to.

When the time came for retiring, the two boys lay down under this,
drawing their blankets around them, for the night air was chilly.

"If it rains too hard, crawl in where you belong," was the last
instruction Jack gave them before seeking the bed he had made in the
_Tramp's_ interior.

Later on all was silent about the camp on the canal. From the swamp
near by various queer sounds might have been heard, had any one
remained awake to listen; but as the boys were all pretty tired, no
doubt they slept well.

It might have been in the middle of the night that Jack was aroused by
a loud shout, which he recognized as coming from Nick. Wondering what
it meant, he immediately started to climb out of the boat, gun in hand,
when there came a tremendous report. Evidently Nick, whether he had
seen something suspicious or was dreaming he did, had fired George's
borrowed gun!

CHAPTER XIV.

NICK BAGS HIS GAME.

"Whoop! I got him!"

That was certainly Nick shouting in an exultant strain; and as Jack
glanced in the direction of the lean-to he saw the fat boy hunching his
pudgy figure out, gun in hand--for the moon had not yet set in the west.

Then Jack caught the sound of something struggling in th