Gee, it's nice in here."
It _was_ nice. The rain pattered down on the low roof and beat against
the little ports; the boat swayed a little in the heavier gusts of wind
and all the delightful accompaniments of a life on the ocean wave were
present--except the peril.
"You get out the cooking things," said Roy, "while I take a squint
around and see if I can find something to kindle a fire in."
He did not have to go far. Sliding open the little hatch, he emerged
into the cockpit, where the wind and rain smote him mercilessly. The
storm had grown into a tempest and Roy wondered how it would be out on
the wide river on such a night. In the cockpit was nothing but the
shredded remnant of a sun awning and a couple of camp chairs, but a few
feet from the boat something on the mushy ground cast a faint glimmer,
and on going to it he found it to be a battered five-gallon gasoline
can, which he brought back in triumph. By this time Tom and Pee-wee had
the camp lamp burning and the supper things laid out. It was a very cosy
scene.
"See if there's a Stillson wrench in that locker," said Roy.
Among the rusted tools was a "Stillson," and with this Roy disconnected
the exhaust pipe from the engine. He next partly "jabbed" and partly cut
a hole in the gasoline can of about the circumference of the pipe. A
larger hole in the side of the can sufficed for a door and he squeezed
the end of the exhaust pipe into the hole he had made for it, and
presto! there was a very serviceable makeshift stove with the exhaust
system of the engine converted into a draught and chimney.
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