The boat was turned toward the left bank of the stream, but in a few seconds’ time, before the boat had proceeded more than a few feet, Jule, who was at the helm, changed her course so as to make the right side. In answer to Alex’s questioning look he said:
“The current sweeps across to the opposite shore after we round the bend. The Rambler will naturally follow that.”
“That’s right,” was the reply, “the south side for us. How would you like to bump into the river thieves again? Say, kid, but that was a close call for your feet!”
“Well, as long as they didn’t accomplish their purpose, I fail to see why we should be everlastingly sobbing over it.”
The boat’s keel soon grated on the south shore, and the boys left her, pausing only long enough to cast a parting glance at the trim little craft “The chances are that we shall never see the boat again,” Alex remarked.
“Rats!” was Jule’s reply. “If we find everything all right on board the Rambler, why can’t we come back and get her? I have a notion that the boys thought we were a long time catching these fish, and sent the boat ahead faster than usual just to give us a scare.”
“That’s all right,” replied Alex, “but I’ve got a hunch that you are wrong. Case would never sail away from his breakfast,” he added with a laugh, “and I don’t think there’s much left on board in the eating line.”
“What about the fish?” Jule asked. “We may as well tote them along, don’t you think?”
“Of course,” replied Alex. “We ain’t going to leave this nice mess of perfectly good fish in the boat. There may be people along here who like fish.”
The lads lifted the string of fish out of the rowboat, and, taking them in hand, struck across the point of land toward the river.