“And there’s the town just a little way ahead,” called out Ed, from the top of the ladder.
Phil went at once on deck, leaped into the skiff and rowed rapidly ahead of the slowly floating flatboat, or as rapidly as the drift would let him. When he reached the village he found to his disappointment that there was no telegraph office there. But he learned that there was one at the hydrographic engineer’s station a few miles below, on the opposite side of the river.
By this time the flatboat had passed him, and he had a long “stern chase” through the darkness and drift before he could overtake and board her again.
Then, assigning Ed to guard their prisoner in the cabin, he called the other boys to the sweeps.
“The river is very wide here,” he explained, “and the telegraph station is on the other side. We must take the boat well over there.”
The boys pulled with a will, and long before the station came in view the flatboat was close in shore on the farther side of the river.
Meantime, or a little later, something happened in the cabin. Ed was reading a book, when suddenly the prisoner called out:—
“Ed.”
“Yes?” said the boy, laying down his book.
“I’m awfully tired, lying in one position. Can’t you turn me over a bit?”