The
engine they did in aluminum paint, the fly-wheel in a gaudy red, and
then they mixed what was left of all the paints.
"I bet we get a kind of blackish white," said Pee-wee.
"I bet it's green," said Tom.
But it turned out to be a weak silvery gray and with this they painted
the cabin, or rather half the cabin, for their paint gave out.
They sat until long after midnight in the little cabin after their first
day's work, but were up and at it again bright and early in the morning,
for Mr. Stanton's men were coming with the block and falls at high tide
in the evening to haul the _Good Turn_ back into her watery home.
Pee-wee spent a good part of the day throwing out superfluous junk and
tidying up the little cabin, while Tom and Roy repaired the rubbing-rail
where it had broken loose and attended to other slight repairs on the
outside.
The dying sunlight was beginning to flicker on the river and the three
were finishing their supper in the cabin when Tom, looking through the
porthole, called, "Oh, here comes the truck and an automobile just in
front of it!"
Sure enough, there on the road was the truck with its great coil of
hempen rope and its big pulleys, accompanied by two men in overalls.
Pee-wee could not repress his exuberance as the trio clambered up on the
cabin roof and waved to the little cavalcade.
"In an hour more she'll be in the water," he shouted, "and we'll----"
"We'll anchor till daylight," concluded Roy.
In another moment a young girl, laden with bundles, had left the
automobile and was picking her way across the marsh.
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