“Hallo,” hailed a voice from the aft window. “We want to talk peaceable with one of you, no shooting.”
It was Jud’s voice and Case stepped forward before any of the others could act.
“What do you want?” he asked, as he threw open the window, disclosing Jud’s face.
“We want one of you to come up and start this darned motor,” he said. “We can’t make it go. ’Pears like we can’t do it. Reckon you boys must have almost filled up your tank with kerosene by mistake. The engine is fairly dripping with it.”
“If you want the engine started, unlock the door and let us all up,” Case said.
A low-toned conversation ensued between Jud and his companions, then Jud’s face reappeared at the window.
“Bill says it can’t be done,” he said dejectedly, “an’ Bill generally knows what’s right.”
“It’s all of us or none,” Case said, decidedly.
“Don’t say that,” begged Jud. “We’re driving on shore an’ it ain’t more than 500 yards away. You don’t want to be drowned like rats in a trap, do you?”
“What are you going to do if one of us does come up and fix the motor?” Case questioned.