Suddenly one of the boatmen–a long-legged fellow with a cast in one eye and lantern jaws sparsely covered with sandy whisker–came forward to the bow of the bateau and poised himself for a leap to the diving float.
“Keep off!” Dave warned him, swinging his paddle over his head. “You jump over here and you’ll catch this where Kellup caught the hen–right in the neck! You let us alone and we’ll let you alone.”
The boatman told him, in no very choice language, what he would do to Dave when he caught him; but the captain of the Busters did not appear to be much shaken.
“Hold, on, Eb!” yelled the other boatman. “I’ll run that raft down and spill ’em all off.”
“You try it and you’ll likely smash your boat,” shouted Dave. “I warn you.”
Mina Everett began to cry softly, for the suggestion of a pitched battle between the boys and the boatmen frightened her dreadfully. Bess began to grow excited.
“Aren’t those men just mean? I wish I had something to hit them with–I do! I believe I’ll get out on the raft with my paddle.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” said Grace. “I think the boys are as nice to us as they can be.”
Suddenly, while the attention of all the others was held by the exciting situation on the raft, Frank Cameron cried out:
“Who’s this coming? Oh, girls! isn’t that Polly? Look, Wyn!”