Meanwhile they had cast off and the Black Growler was moving
noiselessly over the waters of the Erie Canal. They were soon
beyond the borders of the attractive city, but after they had
passed the first village on their way George said quickly,
"Fellows, I believe it's going to rain. Look at those clouds over
yonder." As he spoke George pointed to some heavy clouds that
could be seen massing in the western sky.

"I don't want to get caught out here in a thunder storm," said
John.

"We shan't be," said Fred. "I'll put on a little more speed and
we'll go on to the next place. That's where the hotel or tavern
is that they told me about in Utica. It won't rain before we get
there for it is only four or five miles ahead. If it is going to
rain we can stop. If it doesn't we can keep on if we want to."

Conversation ceased as the speed of the swift little boat
increased. Less than a half-hour had elapsed when the boys found
that they were entering the village to which Fred had referred.

"How about it, Fred?" called John. "It looks pretty black to me."

"It does to me, too," replied Fred. "I think the best thing for
us to do will be to stop. We'll find a place where we can leave
the motor-boat and then we'll go up to the hotel and if we have
to we'll stay there all night."

The boys all agreed to the suggestion and in a brief time the