Part 7 (2/2)
The little launch far away up the river did seem to be acting very strangely. And those aboard were certainly curious with regard to the _Pot Luck_, for they had their gla.s.ses trained on the houseboat at different times. Then, apparently, the power-boat was anch.o.r.ed again, for the boys began drawing further and further away from it, until the haze of distance seemed to entirely obliterate the suspicious craft from their observation.
”Why don't they come right along, and pa.s.s us by?” asked Will.
”That's a part of the game, it seems,” ventured Jerry; ”just to hang around, and wait for another chance to creep aboard this jolly old rover. But make up your minds, fellows, we'll be ready to give 'em a warm reception.”
”Yes,” broke in Bluff, ”and if I only had a chance to fire at long range, I'd be tempted to let 'em feel how hot shot can get, when fired from a real gun!” and he gave Jerry an odd look as he said this.
The boys decided that since the day was rather warm they would do with a cold ”snack” at noon, leaving the getting of dinner until evening arrived, with its cooling airs.
Bluff was perched high up in the bow, and engaged in eating his second ham sandwich, while he observed a steamboat turning a bend far below, and made some humorous remarks concerning river pilots in general.
Jerry leaned against the sweep, and was supposed to be watching to see that the boat did not swerve too much while moving steadily along in the current. Frank and Will were inside, cutting a fresh supply of bread, with which to make their second helping, the boiled ham coming in very handy for the purpose; and some cold coffee left over from the early morning meal answering for a drink.
Frank had just risen to his feet, and was taking the first bite out of his sandwich when he heard a screech from without, and felt a sudden shock.
Will gave a shout, and let the knife with which he was carving the ham, fall on the table.
”They're boarding us, Frank!” he called out, as they both darted for the door, pa.s.sing through together, and appearing on the deck; where they found Jerry making all sorts of strenuous efforts to swing the boat around, as she seemed to be broadside to the current.
As Frank looked around, the first alarming thing he noticed was that Jerry seemed to be utterly alone on deck; and yet a minute before he had surely heard the voice of Bluff calling out to the one at the sweep.
Bluff had certainly disappeared.
CHAPTER VIII-FACE TO FACE AT LAST
”What happened?” cried Frank, unable to understand why the boat acted so queerly, and seemed trying to head up-stream again.
”Must be a snag has hold of her, and is trying to turn her around!”
grunted the straining Jerry; thereby acknowledging that he had not kept as good a lookout ahead as a careful pilot should, or he would certainly have known where a snag lay hidden, by the swirl of water about it.
”Where's Bluff?” cried Will.
”Oh! reckon he went over to see what sort of a snag it was!” replied Jerry.
Then Frank remembered that the last thing he had seen of Bluff he was perched on the bulwark of the boat, with his back down the river, and enjoying his second relay of lunch.
”He's been knocked overboard by the sudden stop of the boat!” he exclaimed, making a rush for the bow.
As he looked over, he discovered the object of his anxiety holding on to the stem of the craft with desperate zeal. Doubtless, as he was sent flying, losing his balance, Bluff had had the good sense to let his sandwich go, and seize the first projection he could find, to prevent his being carried under the bulky craft, if she continued on down-stream.
”I'm here, right-side up with care, Frank!” he spluttered; ”and I don't like it any too well, either. So please reach me your helping hand, and give a pull.”
Frank called to Will to hurry over and help, for he realized that Bluff, with all his clothes thoroughly soaked, would be too much of a load for one.
So together they drew him up, none the worse for his ducking, save that he must change his clothes.
<script>