“Well,” said Scoop, dropping into a seat on a box, “we’re off.”
“The only thing I regret,” grunted Peg, “is that we didn’t even scores with the Strickers before leaving town. For we owe them something for that rope trick.”
“Let’s send the ‘friendly ghost’ back to clean up on ’em,” grinned Scoop.
“We’re fast leaving the ghost behind us,” I laughed.
“I hope so,” Red spoke up quickly, squinting uneasily down the canal.
Grinning, Scoop got to his feet and cupped his hands to his mouth.
“Hey, mister friendly ghost,” he called, “give Bid Stricker a black eye for me.” He sat down, still grinning. “It’s all right now,” he waggled. “We’re revenged.”
In a short time we had left Tutter behind us. The moon was shining, making it easy for us to keep the Sally Ann in the middle of the canal. [[73]]Peg was handling the tiller. Red had the engine in charge. Scoop and I had nothing to do except to enjoy the ride and thrill in the thought of the probable adventures that lay ahead of us.
“Let’s have some refreshments,” Peg sang out.
Feeling around under the deck, where our provisions were stored, Scoop brought out a loaf of bread and the boiled ham that his father had generously donated. He made two sandwiches apiece.