Nothing was seen of the farmer himself, or of poor Will.
"Can you do anything for him?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey of her husband,
after the children had gone to bed that night.
"I hope so, yes. If, as he says, he has an uncle somewhere in the
West, and I can get his address, I'll write to him, and ask him to
look after Will. The boy needs a good home."
"Indeed he does. Oh, I'm so glad you didn't let him get that
whipping!"
"I'll help him all I can," promised Mr. Bobbsey.
The twins' father rather hoped that the hired boy might slip down to
the houseboat that evening, with his uncle's address, but nothing was
seen of him.
In the morning a strange thing happened.
Mr. Bobbsey and Captain White decided that it would be better to take
the boat a little farther down Lemby Creek, and tie it fast to the
bank in a more shady spot than the one opposite the farm buildings.
"It will be better fishing in the shade, too," Mr. Bobbsey said to the
boys.
So the gasoline engine was started, and the boat started off. It had
not gone very far, though, before Mr. Bobbsey, who was steering,
called to Captain White to shut off the engine.
"What's the matter?" asked Captain White. "You're going farther than
this; aren't you?"
"I wanted to, yes. But we can't go any farther."
"Why not?" asked Mrs.
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