Part 11 (1/2)
Sam did not wait to hear the completion of the sentence, for Captain Joe, sensing, doubtless, that the outlaw was in bad with the party, advanced upon him. The pirate sprang for a floating timber, missed it, and went under. He came up in a second and struck out for the sh.o.r.e through a comparatively clear channel. The boys watched him until he crawled out on a mud bank and then turned to Red.
”Well?” asked that individual, a smile on his face. ”What next?”
”First,” Clay said, ”I want to thank you for saving me from that ruffian, and then I want you to sit down and wait until we get up the greatest dinner that ever was served on the Mississippi. I'm half starved, and I know that the boys are. Of course, if you want to land right now, we'll put you ash.o.r.e.”
”I reckon,” Red replied, with a slight tremble in his gruff voice, ”that I can't do better than to stick here for a time!”
”Well,” Clay went on, ”the boys are wet and cold, as well as hungry, and so I'll have to do the cooking. Will you come in the cabin and sit by me while I do it?”
”Will I? I'm lucky not to be out there on the sh.o.r.e with Sam!”
The two pa.s.sed into the cabin, after the boys had put on dry clothes and warmed themselves at the coal stove, and Clay set about cooking a mammoth steak which had been bought at Cairo and kept in the tiny refrigerator. Then he boiled potatoes, and made light biscuit, and the coffee he produced was a hearty meal in itself! There were tinned beans, and sardines, and salmon, and many other things when the meal began, but when it was over the table was bare of everything in the provision line!
In the joy and comfort of being full-fed, Mose, Captain Joe, and Teddy rolled up in a common rug on the floor, in a corner where they would not be in the way, and went to sleep. Clay and Red went out on deck while the others washed the dishes.
”Are you thinking of sticking about this section all night?” asked the latter.
”Only for a short time,” Clay answered. ”We'll fix the motors, directly, and go on down the river. Why do you ask the question? Don't you want to stay here?”
”I was thinking,” Red observed, quite coolly, ”that, with the lights going, and the sh.o.r.e not far away, Sam might be thinking of taking a shot or two at the boys!”
”But he hasn't any gun!” Clay exclaimed.
”Yes, he has,” Red returned. ”He has a gun that wasn't found on him.
He keeps it in a watertight sack under his left arm. He's used to taking to the water!”
”And you think he will hang about the bank, walking down from where he was put off, and try to pick us off?” asked Clay. ”How far are we now from the mud bank he mounted?”
”Not more than a couple of miles,” was the reply. ”We are in water that shows only a trace of current now, because there is a great headland just below, and the flood has packed the curve full. He probably has been able to keep up with the boat.”
”That isn't going very fast!” laughed Clay, ”for it has been at least two hours since he left the boat. The moon, which is in the first quarter, sets about eleven, and it is hiding itself in the trees already!”
”I wouldn't advise sticking hereabouts,” insisted Red. ”I can say no more!”
”All right!” Clay replied. ”We'll fix the motors and start on down.
Here, Case,” he called out, ”did you bring the repairs?”
”Surest thing you know!” was the answer, and in a short time Clay was at work on the motive power, which was not much out of repair and was soon fixed.
”You know, of course,” Clay said to Red, as the _Rambler_, under perfect control, started down stream at a pace which kept the driftwood from lunging against her stern, ”that I recognize you as the man who talked with me out of the river at Cairo?”
”I never suspected it!” was the slow reply. ”How do you know I'm the man?”
”Your voice!” was the reply. ”It puzzled me at first, though.”
”I'll have to trade voices with some river rascal!” grinned Red.