at by walking they would be better able to fight off the
drowsiness which had menaced them. In truth, as far as drowsiness
is concerned, there did not now seem to be any particular danger;
for the shock of the break-down had been sufficient to rouse even
Bob, and the effects of that shock still remained. Uncle Moses,
however, on account of his years, his infirmities, and his tendency
to "rheumatics," together with his freedom from drowsiness, was
installed in the carriage, with all due honors, as its sole occupant.
Walking on thus, they did not regret, in the slightest degree, the
hardships of their lot, but rather exulted in them, since they had
been the means of rousing them out of their almost unconquerable
tendency to sleep. Frank felt the highest possible relief, since
he was now freed from the responsibility that had of late been so
heavy. In Bob, however, there was the exhibition of the greatest
liveliness. Bob, mercurial, volatile, nonsensical, mobile, was ever
running to extremes; and as he was the first to fall asleep, so
now, when he had awaked, he was the most wide awake of all. He
sang, he shouted, he laughed, he danced, he ran; he seemed, in
fact, overflowing with animal spirits.

Fortunately they were not very far from the end of the marshes when
the wheel broke, and in less than two hours they had traversed the
remainder. The driver could speak a little English, and informed
them that they could not reach the destination which he had proposed;
but he hoped before dark to get as far as an inn, where they could
obtain food and lodging. He informed them that it was not a very
good inn; but under the circumstances it was the best that they
could hope for. To the boys, however, it made very little difference
what sort of an inn they came to. As long as they could get
something to eat, and any kind of a bed to lie on, they were content;
and so they told the driver.

Leaving the marshes, the road began to ascend; and after about a
half hour's farther tramp, they came, to a place which the driver
informed them was the inn.

It was by no means an inviting place. It was an old stone edifice,
two stories high, which had once been covered with, stucco; but
the stucco had fallen off in most places, disclosing the rough
stones underneath, and giving it an air of dilapidation and squalor.
The front was by the road-side. A door opened in the middle, on
each side of which was a small, dismal window. In the second