“Do you see anyone you know up there?” he demanded. “That man looks like something to eat. But how did he make the distance in the storm?”
The boys looked in the direction indicated by the pointing finger and saw Rube Stagg making for them with a broad grin on his homely face.
“Say,” said Alex, advancing to meet him, “if you’re down here looking for brindle steers, it falls to me to tell you that there’s hot a thing stirring.”
Rube walked up to the boys and immediately doubled up with laughter at the figure they cut. All were sopping wet, and Clay, Case and Jule were only half dressed.
“They got your boat, did they?” he asked, after he had his laugh out. “And where are the injured lad and the baby bear?”
“Gone down the river with the boat,” was the reply.
“Too bad, too bad!” mused Rube. “I see,” he added, whimsically, “that you saved the bulldog.”
As if in recognition of the mention, Captain Joe advanced to Rube’s side and laid a wet nose in his hand.
The dog seemed to know that something was amiss, but could not tell what it was. The Rambler was not in sight, and he could not understand that.
“Look here, man,” Alex remarked, with a prodigious grin, “have you got any mazuma? I refer to coin of the realm, skads, you know.”