“We’ve d-d-done it,” says he.
“What?” says I.
“Won,” says he. “We’ve f-f-found your uncle. There’s Ole and Jerry.”
I almost tipped over the canoe, I turned so quick to look. Sure enough, there were Ole and Jerry working like big beavers. One was at one end of the raft, and the other was at the other end. They had big pike-poles and were pushing the contraption up-stream. It wasn’t any easy job, either. When we saw them first they were about a hundred feet away from the scow. They poled as far as they could without turning the bend, and then went ashore and fastened their raft to a tree with chains. When that was done Ole waved his hand to the engineer, and right there the queerest piece of traveling I ever saw was done. I don’t see how anybody ever thought it up. The engineer started his engine and began winding in the cable. Of course, because the far end of it was fast, that pulled the scow ahead. That wasn’t so outlandish, though. It was the steering! Would you believe it, but that engineer steered up-stream with the boom of the derrick. He’d swing that back and forth, all the time reeling in, and by moving the spot where the strain came first to one side and then to the other he steered as straight as you please. If the big scow started to veer over to the left the engineer would throw the boom way over to the right, and the pull of the cable would straighten her up. I never saw Mark look more tickled with anything in his life. He actually looked jealous. I knew what he was thinking—it was a big wish that he’d been the fellow to think up that scheme.
Neither Mark nor I said a word to Ole and Jerry till the scow had eaten up all its cable again. It reminded you of a spider. You’ve seen a spider going up, up to the ceiling by eating its own thread. But when the boat stopped we both yelled at once.
Ole and Jerry straightened up, rested their pike-poles on the bottom, and stared at us out of big, round, surprised blue eyes. They didn’t say a word. We paddled over.
“Where’s Uncle Hieronymous?” I asked, so excited I couldn’t sit still.
Ole looked at Jerry, and Jerry looked at Ole. Then both of them looked at us. Pretty soon Ole spoke.
“Py Jimminy!” says he to Jerry.
Jerry wagged his head and grinned at Mark. “She bane that fat boy,” he says.