“You see, Buck,” he explained, “we’ve got to be getting a move on if we get the Esmeralda in shape again.”
“Tell you what,” Alex proposed, “suppose we have a fish breakfast. I just know there’s bullheads in this river.”
“Bullheads in the Rio Grande!” scoffed Jule.
“Just you wait!” replied the boy.
So Alex and Jule went over the Rambler’s side after fish.
CHAPTER XII
A QUEER PASSENGER
There was a faint flush of dawn in the east when the rowboat left the Rambler’s side and struck out into the river. The motor boat had been slowed down to the pace of the other, and the surgeon and Case watched the boys from the deck.
As the prow light was still burning, their view of the scene was exceptionally good. The rain had ceased, and the morning stars were shining. The day promised to be a fine one.
Clay was asleep when the rowboat was launched, so the two boys had nothing to worry over. They had every confidence in the surgeon, and believed in the ultimate recovery of their chum.