“I should say not,” was the indignant reply. “What for should I do that, I should like to know? Sure you fastened the chain right?”
“Of course! The chain was all right when we left there.”
“Then why should she be moving toward the shore? She’s being towed, or I’m not an inch high! What do you know about that?”
The Rambler was indeed moving toward the west bank of the river! The motors were not in action, and yet she was moving, slowly yet steadily, to the west! In a moment, as they rowed nearer, they saw that she was drifting down toward them, but was, at the same time, being drawn in toward the bank. There was no one in sight on the deck or in the open cabin!
“This must be a fairy land!” Case grumbled. “There’s something uncanny in the very air! How do we know that we are in the Colorado river, anyway? We haven’t seen a ship, or a launch, or a rowboat, except our own, to-day! Things disappear from the cabin, Alex goes up in the air, and now the Rambler wiggles off without any motive power showing!”
“Look at Captain Joe!” shouted Clay. “Just look at the fool dog?”
Case continued to pull at the oars, anxious to gain the Rambler.
“What is he doing?” he asked, not turning around to see.
“He’s barking and snapping at something that doesn’t exist!” Clay replied. “He is fighting with the air—and getting the worst of it!”
“Keep your head, chum!” Case grinned. “Keep on trying to think! The worst is yet to come!”