“The brute has bitten my arm!” the old man moaned.
“If you remain quiet,” Alex. said, “you won’t have any more wounds to complain of. We’ll just tie you up and get out! After we are gone some one will come and let you out. What sort of a place is this, anyway?”
The old man groaned and made no reply, so the boys secured him and crept out of the window into the darkness.
[CHAPTER VII—SEARCHING FOR THE RAMBLER]
Case found the walking fairly good and reached New Madrid shortly before noon, having started about 8 o’clock. He procured the supplies for which he had been sent and then sought the hotel and partook of an excellent dinner.
“Now,” he thought, “shall I walk back to the Rambler to-night, or shall I remain here and look over the town?”
The question was soon decided, for all there was of the town could be seen in a very short time. At 1 o’clock he started back to the motor boat. At 5 o’clock, just as the sun was setting, he came to the bayou where the Rambler had been anchored.
There was no boat there. The night was falling fast, and the bayou and the river were dimly seen through a slight mist. The boy stood on the bank of the bayou for a long time, studying the situation.
“There’s something wrong!” he decided. “The motors could never have been forced into motion with the parts missing! The boys would never attempt to drift down, for the river is still filled with drifting timbers and wrecks of houses and barns.
“And even if they should have decided to change locations, notwithstanding the peril of the undertaking, they would never have gone away without leaving some one here to notify me of the new position!”