Friends coming up
river in boat flying yellow flag."_
They had on board a large yellow flag with TEMPLE CAMP on it, and Roy
thought of this as being the best means of identifying the boat for
anyone who might be watching for it along the shore.
Three times they flashed the message, then hurried back to the boat and
chugged out, anchoring in midstream. The course of the river is as
straight as an arrow here. The lights in the small towns of Milton and
Camelot were visible on either side; tiny lights flickered along the
railroads that skirted either shore, and beyond in the distance twinkled
the lights on the great bridge at Poughkeepsie.
"We're right in the steamer's path here," said Tom; "let's hurry."
Roy played the shaft for a minute to attract attention, then threw his
message again and again into the skies. The long, bright, silent column
seemed to fill the whole heaven as it pierced the darkness in short and
long flashes. The chugging of the _Good Turn's_ engine was emphasized by
the solemn stillness as they ran in toward shore, and the splash of
their dropping anchor awakened a faint echo from the neighboring
mountains.
"Well, that's all we can do till morning," said Roy. "What do you say to
some eats?"
"Gee, it's big and wild and lonely, isn't it?" said Tom.
They had never thought of the Hudson in this way before.
After breakfast in the morning they started upstream, their big yellow
camp flag flying and keeping as near the shore as possible so as to be
within hail.
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