“I’ll cook him if you’ll skin him,” Case offered. “We want only a few pounds of catfish steak,” Clay observed.
“I’m going to boil about half of him!” Alex declared, “so as to give Captain Joe and Teddy the feast of their lives.”
“It’s a wonder Captain Joe didn’t jump into the river after you when the fish invited you down into the mud,” Jule laughed.
“Captain Joe and the bear were both asleep in the cabin,” Case explained.
The boys had a merry time preparing that fish for cooking. It is not hard work to dress a catfish if you know how, but these boys did not know how. At last, however, a great hunk was boiling in a pot and slices were ready for frying. By noon the meal was ready, and the boys all admitted that Alex’s, catfish was a very good substitute for salmon, although nothing at all like it in appearance.
The boys drifted slowly on the river that day, taking in the wild scenery and stopping now and then at cosy little landings on the Kentucky side. It was a warm, clear day in September, and the world never looked brighter to them than it did at that time.
They passed river craft of all shapes and sizes during the day. There were monstrous steamers having the appearance of floating hotels, there were great freight boats loaded to the guards, there were house-boats, motor boats, and great coal tows which dominated the stream as they passed.
“There’s a boat,” Clay said just before twilight, “which looks to me like a river saloon and I think those on board are watching the Rambler.”
“If it is,” Case suggested, “we’d better take to our heels. We don’t want any more experience with river pirates.”
“I should say not!” broke in Alex. “Those fellows don’t own the river. We’ve got just as much right here as they have. If they try to come aboard, we’ll set Teddy on them.”