“What is it, Captain?” asked Case, as if the dog could answer him. “Where did you leave the boys?”
Again the dog drew at his clothes, urging him in the direction of the town.
“But I can’t go in this swimming rig,” said Case, arguing with the dog as he would have argued with one of his chums. “You wait here while I go on board and dress, then I’ll go with you.”
The dog expressed his dissatisfaction with this arrangement by a series of growls, but Case entered the boat and rowed to the Rambler, where he found Clay and Frank ready for the shore, they having seen the dog’s pantomime from the deck.
“Just as I thought,” Case grumbled. “They’ve gone and got into some trouble and sent the dog to tell us about it.”
The situation looked grave, but Clay smiled as he nudged the boy in the ribs.
“You were going to quit that!” he said.
“Well,” Case responded, with a grin, “they’ve found a diamond mine, and have sent the dog to notify us to come and help carry away the wealth. Does that suit you any better?”
“Surely, that is much better!” smiled Clay.
In the meantime Captain Joe was sitting on the little dock where the boat had been moored in a very dignified attitude, his snarly nose pointing up the street which ended at the river. This was not the main street of the town, but one running back of the thoroughfare where most of the places of business were situated. It was a street where old warehouses and cheap eating and drinking places predominated.