“Now, Sam,” Clay said, “we’ve got to repair the motors and get the Rambler out of this ruck, where the leak can be repaired, so we’ve got no time to waste guarding a skunk like you. You would have murdered me if Red hadn’t interfered, but I’m going to give you a chance for your life! Can you swim?”
“Fo’ de Lawd’s sake!” grunted Mose, appearing on the deck, wet and shivering from the river, “dat’s de ’dentical question he done ask me!”
Captain Joe, who had come on board from the raft with the negro, sniffed at the heels of the outlaw and seemed to ask permission of Clay to take a bite out of him. The cub pranced around the little waif as if he had found a friend from whom he had long been parted. Sam did not answer the question. He glared at the weapons, at the exposed fangs of the bulldog, and turned a scowling face to Red.
“These rascals seem to be friends of yours,” he said. “I don’t hear anything about your being given a chance to swim! Is this a frame-up?”
Red’s already flushed face darkened at the insulting question, and he would have struck Sam only that Case, whose gun was at his breast, motioned him to desist.
“There’ll come a time!” growled Sam. “Me an’ you will have a settlement right soon after we get shut of these imitation tramps. Understand that?”
“Yes, kiddo,” Red cut in, turning to Clay, “Sam can swim. He’s great on giving exhibition stunts in the water. He can do anything with water except drink it.”
“Glad to know it!” Clay replied, “for I want to see how far he can swim! Take a run-and-jump, you toy pirate, and get overboard.”
“Fo’ de Lawd’s sake, dat’s what he said to dis——”
Sam did not wait to hear the completion of the sentence, for Captain Joe, sensing, doubtless, that the outlaw was in bad with the party, advanced upon him. The pirate sprang for a floating timber, missed it, and went under. He came up in a second and struck out for the shore through a comparatively clear channel. The boys watched him until he crawled out on a mud bank and then turned to Red.