“Why?” the fat boy kept asking; for when anything puzzled him he never gave his comrades any peace until they had explained the particulars; for Bumpus could be a standing interrogation point when he chose.
“Now you’ve got me,” admitted Josh, “’cause I don’t know.”
“He ain’t doing that just for fun, you believe, don’t you? He’s got a card up his sleeve, as they say; and means to play it on us. Started up the river in the beginning just to use a little time, and pull the wool over our eyes, fellers. Now he comes a-spinnin’ down again in a little different direction. Why? Again I wait to hear some wise head say it,” and Bumpus assumed an expectant attitude as he went on in this manner.
“Jack, c’n you answer him?” Herb questioned; for, as usual they began to turn toward the Commodore at such a time, just as though he might be an unabridged dictionary, and able on any and all occasions to supply the crowd with information.
“Well, if, as we seem to believe, this bold scamp is one of those bank robbers, there’s only one way open for him to escape from any pursuers, and that’s down the Mississippi,” Jack started to say; when George uttered a sudden mild whoop.
“I’ve got it!” he cried, excitedly.
“Bully for you, then, George,” said Buster, eagerly, “and suppose you tell us before you burst. The cooper that put hoops around your barrel didn’t fasten ’em any too tight, believe me. Now, all at once, and have it over with—why should that feller turn around, and start back this way again, after getting safe off?”
“Why, because he suddenly remembered that he had a chum somewhere on this same old island,” George announced, triumphantly; “how’s that, Jack?”
Jack patted him on the back approvingly.