Giraffe nodded his head in a way that stood for hope.
“Seems to be all right, fellows,” he assured them. “Old Hans here has agreed to set us over on the other side. Perhaps when I promised to double his fee it made him jump after the silver hook more nimbly.”
“Yes, there he goes now to get his ropes unfastened,” said Bumpus. “Whew! from the way he’s tied the old batteau up I should think he hadn’t had a passenger all this day. He’s as slow as molasses in winter, and that can’t be beaten.”
Giraffe looked at the speaker and grinned. When Bumpus called anything “slow” it must move about as tediously as an ice wagon, or one of those enormous German guns drawn over the hard roads by a powerful traction engine.
“Let me crawl out first, Thad,” the fat boy remarked, “if you’re meaning to move the car aboard the ferryboat.”
“Bumpus is afraid of you, Thad!” cried Giraffe; “he thinks you may make a slip and dump the whole business over the side of the boat; and Bumpus doesn’t care to go in swimming with his suit on. If it should shrink when he tried to dry it, whatever would he do for another?”
All the same, Giraffe himself was not averse to leaving the little old car while Thad was taking it carefully aboard the flatboat used as a ferry, showing that he might be just as guilty as Bumpus.
“Well, now!” exclaimed the fat scout on noticing that even Allan joined them, “seems like we might all be in the same boat, doesn’t it?”
“We expect to be, right away,” Giraffe told him, calmly.
Thad did not let the car play any trick. He soon had it aboard the ferry, and about as well balanced as any one could have accomplished. The old man had just about finished undoing the last rope, and in another minute they might expect to find themselves moving out toward the opposite shore, by means of the pulley fastened to the rope above, and the long stout pole which was intended for pushing in the shallow water.