To all such offers, however, the boys turned deaf ears.
“We might have had a load of beefsteak by now,” said Alex, “that a dog couldn’t bite through. Just wait until I get to the table and watch my motions.”
“You’ll be there directly,” said Rube, with a chuckle. “I feel as if I could enjoy a snack myself.”
The tavern sought by the men seemed to be the best in the town, but that was not saying much. However, it was neat and clean, and the steaks were soon sizzling over the coals.
“Will you tell me how you got down the river so soon?” Clay asked as soon as the first edge was off the appetites. “We leave the Point, get here in time to have our boat stolen, and then we run across you. How did you make it? We haven’t been here over two hours, and you show up like a Christmas present—all the more welcome because unexpected.”
“Now, son, just remember this: It ain’t all the questions that are asked that are answered. What you don’t find out you can’t repeat. And there you are.”
“I didn’t mean to be inquisitive,” answered Clay, with a flush of vexation. “It is none of my business how you got here, so long as you are here.”
“Now don’t misunderstand me,” continued Rube, in an apologetic tone, which seemed to be something new for him. “There’s reasons for keeping my mouth closed tighter’n a drum. Enough that I got here in time to help you out with a little cash, which you may return at any time most convenient.”
“Thank you for the loan,” replied Clay. “I hope to return it almost immediately—just as soon, in fact, as we hear from Chicago.”
No more was said on the subject at that time. The boys were busy plying their knives and forks, and, the meal over, there was the visit to the telegraph office and then the search for the Rambler was begun.