The merchant wailed and wrung his hands.
"This will pay you for your loss. As a matter of fact, I think you have made enough out of our crowd already to pay you for all the damage we have done."
"Say, honest, Sam, what did you do to that donkey to make him cut up in that way?" demanded Dan, coming out of the bazaar.
"I told you I didn't do it. His rudder got jammed; that's what was the matter with the beast. As soon as I got both engines going ahead full speed there wasn't any more trouble."
Once more the boys started off down the street, singing and shouting. Hickey's mount was now as meek as a spring lamb, but the other men kept a good distance away from the red-headed boy, not knowing at what minute the donkey might have another fit.
At last the donkey riders began to tire of their sport. Just then the watchmen in the towers began to cry out the hour of midnight.
"Eight bells," sang out Dan Davis.
"All lights are burning brightly," mocked another.
"Yes, but they will all be out soon," answered Dan. "Time to pipe up hammocks."
"Oh, not yet," protested Sam.