Jule said not a word, evidently thinking that no words could do justice to the occasion.
Clay remained silent for a moment, and then a smile flickered over his face as he observed:
“Well, our next stunt will be to get the boat back. No game is played out until the cards are all on the table.”
“Oh, you’ll get it back, all right! In a pig’s wrist.”
Case was almost ready to cry with anger and vexation.
“We never should have left the boat alone,” he declared.
“Well, it can’t be helped now,” Clay suggested. “Who has any ideas to offer?”
“I would suggest that we take turns kicking each other,” said Alex, wrinkling his nose. “We all deserve the boot good and plenty! Who’ll be the one to begin the ceremony?”
“Cut that,” remarked Clay, cheerfully. “We have no one to blame but ourselves. The first thing to do is to get into a decent suit of clothes. I presume such things can be bought here.”
“Yes, but we are on the wrong side of the river,” complained Case. “I would advise suicide!”