"Some tramp they got to help them," was Tom's comment. "The question is, Where will they go with the houseboat?"
"I don't think they'll dare to go to any of the big towns," said Dick. "They'll be afraid we'll telegraph ahead to catch them. More than likely they'll land at some out-of-the-way spot and cart our valuables off in a wagon. Then possibly they'll cast the houseboat adrift, or set fire to her."
"If that's the case, what's to do?" questioned Fred Garrison. "I hate to sit still and do nothing."
"Yah! let us go after dem fellers mit pitchforks alretty!" added Hans, vehemently. "Such robbers ought to peen electrocutioned mit a rope, ain't dot so?"
"You mean hung, Hans," said Sam. "They certainly ought to be punished.
"Well swing them high, I do declare,
And let them dance on naught but air!
And When they've danced and hour so slick,
We'll cut them down and bury them quick,"
came softly from Songbird, who could not resist the temptation to burst into verse.
"Great shoestrings, Songbird! To think you'd make up poetry on such a subject," cried Fred.
"Couldn't help it—I haven't composed anything to-day," was the calm answer.
"Maype Songpird been komposing boultry ven he been in his coffin," remarked Hans.