“G-g-go on away,” says he. “You can’t f-find out any more. You’re b-beat!”
“Well, I swan!” says Jiggins. “Howdy, Mark. Hard work gettin’ out of that boat-house. Had to find another boat. But here we are.”
Sure enough, they did have another boat. They must have found it somewhere along the river near the boat-house.
Jiggins didn’t seem to be much discouraged. “Well,” says he, “we enjoyed your company. Sure we did. Nice boy. Brains. Always liked boys with brains—especially fat boys. Good-by. Ludington, eh? He’s in Ludington. Well, Mark Tidd, we’re off for Ludington. Beat, eh? Not yet. Not yet.” They pushed off their boat and started down-stream. “Good-by,” says Jiggins again. “I’ll give your regards to Uncle Hieronymous. Good-by.”
Mark didn’t wait a minnit. “G-g-got to beat ’em to Ludington,” says he. “No time to waste.” He thought a minnit. “When does the t-t-train leave Scottville?”
“Long about nine o’clock,” says Mr. Hogtoter.
“How far’s Scottville?”
“Two mile.”
“H-h-how do we get there?”
“Walk,” says Mr. Hogtoter. “There’s a road back there a spell.” He jerked his thumb up the bank. “But they’ll beat you. You’ll git lost or somethin’.”