“Go it, boy! Go it, bear!” was shouted from the houseboat.
The three men already disgruntled by the manner in which they had been treated by the outlaws, were now inclined to support Alex and the bear in their efforts to escape.
While the men on the Rambler sent badly aimed bullets after the two in the water, the men on the houseboat hurled billets of wood and whatever else they could lay their hands on at the outlaws.
This action on their part, while doing no physical harm whatever, had the effect of directing the attention of the outlaws from the boy and the bear to the three men. When Alex and Teddy disappeared in the thicket on the east side of the little creek, immediately in the rear of the houseboat, the outlaws were still firing, and the others were still pitching wood and pieces of coal over the deck of the motor boat.
After a very long run upstream, out, perhaps fifty yards from the water’s edge, the boy and the bear threw themselves down on the moss beneath a forest tree and panted out congratulations to each other on their escape.
“Teddy,” almost whimpered Alex. “We’ve gone and lost the Rambler!”
The bear looked very grave indeed.
“We’ve gone and lost the Rambler!” Alex went on, “and have nothing to show for it at all! I set out to catch a fish, and lost the boat!”
Teddy rubbed his soft muzzle against Alex’s, cheek and looked sympathetic. He seemed to understand every word said.
“And now, bear,” the boy went on, “we’ve got to walk five or ten miles up this bank of the river and swim across. I guess the boys must be pretty near a dozen miles away.”