The boy had lost his grip on the goat’s tail, after having been yanked about in a neck-breaking manner.
“Ye-e-ow!” screeched Hans, rolling over and over in a wild effort to gain a place of safety. “I pelief dot vos a sdeam inchine run py electricidy! Led id gid avay vrom me qvick! Somepoty blease holt me dill I gids avay vrom id! Hellup! Murter!”
Browning dashed to Diamond’s assistance, and was joined by Merriwell and Bart Hodge. But they could not hold the goat. It squirmed out of their hands like an eel and scampered to the other side of the deck.
Whish! Spat!
A stream of water from the steamer’s hose struck the goat amidships, at this juncture, and fairly bowled it over.
Some of the crew had decided to take a hand, and were now training the hose on the pugnacious creature.
The goat shook itself and lowered its head as if for the purpose of attacking this new foe. But it quickly changed its mind, and raced from the deck, followed by the stream, sending back a defiant “Ba-a-aa!” however, as it disappeared.
Hans climbed slowly and hesitatingly to his feet, ready to drop down at the first warning. He steadied himself on his fat, shaky legs, and looked round the deck with owlish gravity, as if he doubted the goat’s disappearance.
“Are you hurt?” Merriwell sympathetically asked, advancing.
“Vos you hurt!” Hans indignantly squealed. “Dunder und blitzens! I vos kilt more as sefendeen hundret dimes, alretty yet! I vos plack und plue vrom your head to my heels.”