"Twist his tail," suggested a shipmate jeeringly.
Hickey accepted the suggestion. Half turning, he grasped the beast's tail, giving it a violent twist.
"Hee—hee—hee-h-a-w—he-e-e-e-e," protested the donkey.
The jackies shouted.
"You better get a new horn for your automobile, red-head," jeered a shipmate.
"The one he has would make a good siren for the battleship," added another.
Hickey was having too much trouble, about this time, to give heed to the jeers of his companions. The lazy donkey had all at once taken matters into his own hoofs. These hoofs were flying in all directions. With every kick the circle about the Battleship Boy and his mount widened.
"I'm going to fall off. Somebody catch me!" yelled Sam.
Dan Davis, though fairly doubled up with laughter, sprang from his donkey and ran to Sam's assistance. He did not fear that Sam would be harmed, but he saw that, with every kick, the animal was getting nearer and nearer to the bazaar.
"Hang on, Sam!" encouraged his companions.