“But we might be able to save his life if we went out with the boat,” urged Alex.
“Wait for Case,” was all Clay would say.
The outlaws, who had reloaded their weapons, fired volley after volley at the lad who was swimming, but their bullets all went wide of the mark, and Case was soon on shore, looking about for Clay and Alex. He saw them when they arose in the rowboat and came running to meet them.
“Where’s Jule?” asked Alex.
“I’m afraid he’s drowned,” was the sober reply.
“When did you see him last?” asked Clay.
“I never saw him after he went down. He just dropped to the bottom like a piece of lead,” said Case. “I guess the Rambler’s gone this time!” he added.
“If we only had Jule back it could go to the bottom, for all we’d care!” exclaimed Clay.
There were strange doings on board the Rambler. The parrot was calling shrilly for the outlaws to “Come off the perch,” and the baby bear was clawing an outlaw with all his strength, which, after all, was not great.
An outlaw seized the parrot and started for the side of the boat with him, intending to pitch him to the stream below, but the fellow who seemed to be the leader of the gang stopped him.