"Here," replied Joe, who had brought it in. "It won't go very far, though."
Indeed the water supply was going to be a serious matter, though, if worse came to worst, they could use the river water, by allowing it to stand for some hours, to settle. It was fresh, but full of mud, and unpleasant to taste and smell. They could also catch the rain as it fell.
"I saw a barrel outside the shack," spoke Mr. Ringold. "Maybe that has water in it."
"I'll look!" offered Blake. "It has!" he cried a moment later, "and it's fresh water, too. That will last us some days."
"Then go ahead, and make coffee," suggested Joe, "and we'll see what else there is here."
An inspection of the cabin showed that there was some food left. It was not very choice, but it was better than nothing, consisting of canned stuff, and, with what our friends had managed to take off their sinking boat, would do for a while.
A fire was soon crackling in the rather dilapidated stove, and the odor of coffee, fragrant and appetizing, filled the air.
"Well, this isn't so bad," remarked Blake, as he sat munching a canned corned beef sandwich. "We're pretty snug in here."
"Yes, and we don't have to worry about run-
