This seemed to be sound advice, for three boats instead of one were being started away from the pier. Clay set the motors going at full speed and headed for the other side of the river. At the same moment the Señorita shipped anchor and headed shoreward, with the evident purpose of picking up the approaching boats.
“Let her out!” advised Alex, patting the wet dog on the head. “If they catch us, with the help of that steamer they’ll want my dog.”
“Where did you get the pup?” asked Jule, trying to make friends with Captain Joe, a heavy, ugly, red-eyed, white bulldog about a year old.
“Bought him,” replied Alex, “and then they tried to steal him away from me. You’d better get a move on, Clay!”
The Rambler was now headed up the river at her best speed, and the Señorita soon dropped back. As she turned to take up her old position Captain Joe, who seemed to understand that he was now a dog of great importance, put his paws upon the railing and barked an insulting farewell to her and the members of the mob she was taking on board.
“That’s a fine dog,” said Jule.
“You bet he is!” asserted Alex. “I saw him doing tricks up in town and bought him of a boy, and then an old man came along and claimed him, and I bought the dog of him, and then another man came along and said the dog was his, and I bought him again, and then another man came along and said the dog was his, and I bought him again, and then another man came——”
“To be continued in our next!” shouted Jule. “Serves you good and right for going off without me. Now, tell us what took place.”
“Why,” Alex went on, making a wry face at the Señorita as the Rambler shot around a point of land and was slowed down a trifle, “I’m telling you about it. I bought Captain Joe off a boy, and a man came along and claimed him, and I bought him off him, and then another man came along and claimed the dog, and I bought him——”
Jule chased Alex and his dog into the cabin and left them there to recover from the effects of their bath.