Tim thanked him for the final words of advice, said goodbye to Ralph and started to shove off when his friend stopped him.
“Got a gun?” he asked.
Tim shook his head. “I won’t need one. I don’t think Crazy John is as bad as he’s pictured and I’m sure I won’t have any trouble with Ford.”
“But there’s Sladek and his bodyguards. If you run into them, you might get in a jam. Better take this.”
Ralph handed Tim a heavy, snub-nosed automatic.
“It’s loaded and here’s two extra clips. Take care of yourself.”
“See you in a day or two,” said Tim as he shoved away from the landing stage. Turning on the ignition he gave the starter rope on the outboard a jerk. The motor responded with a steady putt-putt-putt and Tim started the journey down stream to the island abode of Crazy John.
Ralph watched the boat until it was lost from view behind a curve in the broad river. Then he turned and went back to the village, had breakfast, obtained gasoline, and walked back to the Jupiter where he replenished the fuel and sat down in the shade. He was going to have lots of nothing to do until Tim returned.
On the Cedar, Tim’s small craft surged steadily down-river. There was no regular navigation on the stream and the channel swung from one side to another.
Black snags stuck their dangerous heads above the surface of the water and occasionally a broad sand bar ran almost across the stream. Finding the channel was no easy task and Tim realized that it might be at least two days under the best of circumstances before he returned to the village.