Chapter IX: The Swift Run of the Tramp
"I reckon you pinked that feller, Cap!" cried one of the officers.
"Not much," returned the disgusted leader of the expedition. "He only dropped to avoid getting in the way of flying lead. They're gone, and left us holding the bag."
"If it hadn't been for these boys we'd a gone further up the creek, and sure nabbed 'em," grumbled Grogan, sourly.
"That isn't the fault of these boys," replied the captain, quickly. "They had a right to stay here if they wanted. It's just our tough luck to hit on the wrong boat. They must have heard something of the rumpus, and thought it a mighty good time to clear out."
"And all that long row back to town for nothin'," Grogan complained.
"If I only had a fast boat I'd feel like following the rascals. Say, boys, what's to hinder you taking us down river. Perhaps your little _Tramp_ might overhaul the other craft, or keep them going till daylight, when we could corner the yeggs?" and the captain turned upon Jack with renewed interest.
But the boy was not at all inclined to favor him. In the first place it would break up the race, since the strict conditions must be shattered. Then again their promise not to travel after dark except in case of dire necessity stood in the way. And last but not least, Jack did not much fancy having that disagreeable officer Grogan as a passenger for hours at a time; nor did he care to be compelled to remain awake.
"Sorry, Captain," he remarked, pleasantly, "but the fact is I was working at my engine when night came on, and it's not in condition for immediate service. I expected to finish the job while my friend cooked breakfast. So you see, long before I could get it to working that sound would be lost, and we'd never raise it again."
"Oh! well, if that's the case," said the other, with a quick look toward the motor of the boat, which even his inexperienced eye could see was in some measure taken apart, "I reckon we'll just have to call it off, and make the best of a bad job. But you've interested me a whole lot, Jack, and I hope you will win your race, my lad."
"I'm not thinking much about that," replied the boy, "since the cup was given by my own dad, you see. But I was wondering whether we might not get in more trouble below because our boat happens to look like that other one."
"That's a fact, to be sure. Here," said the captain, as if struck by an idea, "perhaps I might be of some assistance to you."
He drew out a pencil and paper, and wrote a few lines, signing his name.
"If any police officials bother you, just show them that, and tell them if they want to call me up on the long distance phone I'll stand sponsor for you."
"Thank you, Captain, I will," and Jack gladly put the little document away, hoping at the same time that it would never have to be shown.
And so the disappointed officers clambered back again into their rowboat, and started on the tiresome journey against the current of the river. The last the boys heard of them was the grumbling sound of Grogan's complaining voice.
"Well, that was an experience, sure enough!" exclaimed Jack, as he looked around at the confusion which abounded aboard the motor boat.
Jimmie, who had lighted their own lantern when the police boat pulled out, was already trying to get things in some sort of order, though most of the work would have to be left until they had daylight to assist them.
"And would ye belave it, that sassy little boat was a lyin' beyant the bridge all the toime we were here, an' us not suspectin' the same!" Jimmie remarked.
"But how slick they got away," observed Jack. "That chap with the pole was bent on pushing her past without being discovered, while the other had his hand on the engine, ready to start things with a rush. It was a bold venture; and between you and me and the lamp post, Jimmie, I rather guess the nervy chaps deserved to get off that time."
"Bad luck till 'em," grumbled the other, "jumpin' aboord a gentleman's boat like that, and turnin' iverything topsy-turvy, so that ye don't know where ye kin foind a place to slape at all."
"Oh! anything will do for the rest of the night. But you lie down, Jimmie. It was just about time to call me anyhow, and I'll take my turn on duty," saying which Jack started to arrange his blanket half way decently, so that later on he could crawl under it again.
The balance of the night passed without further alarm. With the coming of the morning both boys were astir. Jack anxious to complete his little job at the engine, and Jimmie, of course, just as desirous of attending to the vigorous demands of the inner man.
Promptly at eight the start was made, for they were to have a great trip that day, unless some unexpected trouble arose to alter their plans.
The current of the river was now very manifest. Jack even ventured out further upon the vast flood than at any previous time, wishing to get all the advantage possible, so as to make Cairo before the hour came to haul in. Both of them noticed a vast difference in their progress. Even if the current were only a mile an hour faster there than close to the shore, that must count considerably in their favor during the day.
"It's moighty foine ridin' out here this way, I'm thinkin'," remarked Jimmie, after they had been booming along for several hours on the swift tide, with the little engine doing its prettiest all the while.
"You're right," replied Jack, "though I'd just hate to have any accident happen while it lasts. We're a long ways from shore, Jimmie, remember."
"But the swimmin's foine, by the same token," was the immediate response of the ready-witted Irish lad, who never took trouble by the forelock, believing there was always time enough for worrying after things had happened.
As had become their habit, they ate a cold lunch at noon, though Jimmie hinted broadly that it might pay them to pull in closer to the shore, and anchor, while he made a pot of coffee.
The afternoon began to wane as they came in sight of Cairo on its low point of land at the junction of the two great streams.
"My sowl, whativer becomes of all the wather?" exclaimed Jimmie, as they passed the mouth of the Ohio, and could see the great flood of turgid water that was pouring into the Mississippi, there having evidently been something of a rain to the eastward recently.
"Oh! this is only a swallow to the ocean, Jimmie," laughed his comrade. "Just wait until we get our first peep at that, and then talk."
"Sure we same just loike a teenty chip on it all, and I'm growing nervous, so I am," remarked the Irish boy, looking from side to side at the heaving flood that was bearing the motor boat so swiftly on her way.
"Well," returned Jack, soothingly, "if you observe you'll see that I've already headed her in toward the shore on the left. That would be Kentucky now; and somewhere between the junction and the ten mile mark, as we can guess it, is our next station. I wonder if the _Wireless_ is there, and has George grown sick waiting."
The boat rolled considerably when Jack steered her slanting with the current; but there was never a time when the young pilot did not have her under complete control; and if a wave that was larger than ordinary swooped down toward them he instantly changed the course so that it followed behind, and would not strike the _Tramp_ on the counter, and splash water aboard.
In this fashion, then, they drew nearer the shore. Both boys were on the lookout, for many crafts had been moving about on the water at the confluence of the two rivers, though by degrees they left these behind as they made progress down stream.
"It's afther getting near our toime, I'm thinkin'," remarked Jimmie, with a shrewd squint up at the sun, pretty well along down the western heavens.
"Yes, we have just enough to find some sort of a refuge for the night," replied Jack. "You see the current is getting so swift now that it's dangerous for a small boat like ours to anchor near the shore. When one of those big packets goes past it draws the water off, and then lets it come back with a rush. We might be upset, or thrown on the rocks, and get smashed."
"Thin it's us till a nate little cove, or a swate creek!" exclaimed Jimmie. "Only I do be hopin' that this toime we run aginst no polace officers or thaves. It do distarb me more nor I care to be waked up so suddint loike, and arristed for something I niver did."
On this occasion they were compelled to go a mile or so after the time had expired, before finding what they sought. But it was worth the penalty, both thought, as they pushed into the little opening, where they could rest in peace, without the fear of an upset on account of the "wash" from passing steamboats.
They remained near the mouth of the creek as long as daylight lasted, so that a watch could be kept, in order to signal either of the other boats, should one of them heave in sight.
But there was no such luck. Apparently neither had reached the third station, for Jack had scanned the shore line for miles just before they came in, without seeing any sign.
That night passed without any incident of note; although Jimmie insisted upon having an entry made in the log to the effect that his first effort at flapjack making proved an elegant success, since not one of the mess was left. But if the truth were told it would be found that the cook himself accounted for something like three-fourths of the number. And then he had the nerve to declare that he had made only one mistake, which was in limiting the amount of flour used.
"Looks like we might have a nice loafing spell over Sunday for a change now," remarked Jack on the following morning when, having partaken of breakfast, they moved down to a position nearer the river, where they could use the glass to advantage.
"Thin ye don't be sayin' annything of thim whativer?" asked Jimmie, who was still wrestling with the various kettles and dishes used in preparing and eating the meal, while his comrade swept the watery waste with the marine glasses.
"Nothing doing, as yet," replied Jack. "But perhaps in an hour or so we may pick one of them up. Of course it stands to reason the _Comfort_ is away up there somewhere. I only hope George didn't go on down past here. After a while perhaps we'd better show ourselves outside, and anchor there. If he is below he'll see us through his glasses, and make signs."
It was a long morning to the boys. By turns they went ashore to stretch their legs, which were beginning to feel very much cramped on account of the length of time they had been in the confined space of the small boat.
About two o'clock Jack sighted something that looked promising.
"It's either a big alligator acomin' surgin' and heavin' down the river, tryin' to drink up all the wather; or ilse it's that bully old _Comfort_ swimmin' along, wid a bone in her teeth," declared Jimmie, after he had had a turn with the glasses.
Of course it proved to be the motor boat; and half an hour later they caught the attention of those aboard, so that a reunion was speedily accomplished.
"But where's George, and poor old Nick?" asked Herb, as he shook hands with the skipper and crew of the _Tramp_, while Josh got the mudhook overboard.
"That's what is beginning to worry me," admitted Jack. "I knew you couldn't outrun us here; but they had a great send-off. Of course something happened. It always will with that cranky speed boat and the big horsepower motor it carries."
"I warned George that sooner or later it would shake the plagued boat to pieces," declared Herb. "Hope that didn't happen when they were away out on that rearing, tearing flood, though. My gracious, how it does rip along! Guess we could have made six or eight miles an hour without using our engine."
It was then after three. Another hour passed and not a sign of the absent boat could they discover. Several false alarms caused a thrill to pass over the four boys; but night finally drew near without the hoped-for arrival of the _Wireless_ manifesting itself.
And although they found a snug harbor in the mouth of the creek that had proved so secure a refuge to the _Tramp_ on the preceding night, none of the boys rested as well as they might. They were worried over the strange absence of their two chums, and imagined all sorts of evils as having overtaken the crew of the _Wireless_.
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Motor Boat Boys Mississippi Cruise; or, The Dash for DixieChapter IX: The Swift Run of the Tramp
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