“Wal, you blamed idiot, I’m tryin’ to capture ’em, hain’t I?”
“They’ve stolen your piano leg, sir.”
“What?”
“A leg of your piano is missing, sir.”
The lock tender set his gun down and gave a coarse, jerky laugh.
“Wal, by gum! A pianny leg! Whoever heerd tell of anybody stealin’ a pianny leg?”
They went on down the tow path in the hope of catching possible sight of us. After ten or fifteen minutes they hurried back. Now was our chance to get away. And scrambling to our feet we started down the tow path in the direction of the wide waters lickety-cut.
When we were a good mile from the lock we stopped to rest and sort of plan things. First of all we had the job of finding our pals. Our conclusion was that they had not gone to Steam Corners. The island was the place for us to head for, though how we were going to cross the water without a boat was more than we knew in the moment. [[181]]
“We might use the piano leg for a raft,” I joked, holding up the big leg and sort of squinting at it curious-like in the moonlight.
“Gosh!” laughed Scoop. “I had almost forgotten that it was here.”