“Not much!  I’d rather have you a girl!” declared Dick, and in the dark he gave her hand a tight squeeze.

During those days Dick noticed that Captain Starr acted more peculiar than ever.  At times he would talk pleasantly enough, but generally he was so close-mouthed that one could scarcely get a word out of him.

“I believe he is just a wee bit off in his upper story,” said the oldest Rover.  “But I don’t imagine it is enough to count.”

“If he had any ambition in him he wouldn’t be satisfied to run a houseboat,” said Tom.  “It’s about the laziest job I know of.”

The Monday after this talk found the Dora down the Ohio as far as Louisville.  To avoid the falls in the stream, the houseboat had been taken through the canal, and during the middle of the afternoon was taken down the stream a distance of perhaps eighteen miles, to Skemport,—­so named after Samuel Skem, a dealer in Kentucky thoroughbreds.

Fred Garrison had a friend who came from Skemport and wanted to visit him.  The others were willing, and Fred went off with Tom and Sam as soon as the boat was tied up.  When they came back, late in the evening, the others were told that the friend had invited all hands to visit a large stock farm in that vicinity the next afternoon to look at the horses there.

“That will be nice!” cried Dora.  “I love a good horse.”

Two large carriages were hired for the purpose, and Aleck was allowed to drive one, a man from the local livery stable driving the other.

“How soon will you be back?” sang out Captain Starr after them.

“Can’t say exactly,” replied Dick.

The distance to the stock farm was three miles, but it was quickly covered, and once there the Rovers and their friends were made to feel perfectly at home.

“I’d like to go horseback riding on one of those horses,” said Dora, after inspecting a number of truly beautiful steeds.

“You shall,” said the owner of the stock farm; and a little later Dora, Nellie, Dick, and Tom were in the saddle and off for a gallop of several miles, never once speculating on how that ride was to end.

CHAPTER XXI

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE HOUSEBOAT

Never was a girl more light-hearted than was Dora when in the saddle on the Kentucky thoroughbred.  And her cousin was scarcely less elated.

“Let us have a little race, Nellie,” cried Dora.  “It will be lots of fun.”

“Oh, we don’t want the horses to run away,” answered Nellie.

“I don’t think they will run away.”

The race was started, and to give the girls a chance, Dick and Tom dropped to the rear.  Soon a turn of the road hid the two girls from view.

“Wait a minute—­there is something wrong with my saddle,” said Tom, a moment later, and he came to a halt and slipped to the ground.