Therefore, he at once set to work with his knife and began slashing the strong threads of the net. The three men looked on angrily for an instant and then Mose said:
“I told you not to cut that net, boy!”
“I’m afraid there is no other way,” Alex answered very civilly.
“I hope you’ve got the money in your jeans to pay for it,” Mose shouted. “If you haven’t, I’ll just naturally have to take charge of that boat. I can’t afford to lose that net.”
“All right,” Alex replied, cutting industriously away at the obstruction, “my chums are up the river a short distance and they will be down here directly. Then we can talk about paying. We’ll fix you out all right as soon as they get here.”
“You better see that you do!” Mose responded angrily.
It took some time to cut away the great net, but the propeller and rudder and skag were free at last and then Alex climbed back on the deck.
“Here, you,” shouted Mose, presenting the muzzle of an old-fashioned double-barreled shotgun. “Don’t you go near those motors. I’ve been expecting you’d try to run away without paying your just debts.”
“No fear of my going away just yet,” Alex answered. “I’ve got to wait somewhere along here until my chums come.”
While Mose held the rusty old gun in a threatening manner, his two companions attached a heavy cable to the forward bitts of the Rambler and carried it ashore. After winding it around the trunk of a great tree, they returned to the houseboat and lay down on the forward deck to gaze impudently at the boy.