Though I did not feel like haranguing a multitude, I raised my voice.
“Good! Good!” shouted the crowd, when I came to the point where I aimed the revolver at Christy in the cab. “Why didn’t you shoot him?”
“When I drew a bead upon him he stopped the engine, and gave up the pocket-book,” I continued, with boyish exhilaration.
“Wolf, you have saved me,” gasped my delighted father; “but I am rather sorry you did not shoot the villain.”
“We are wasting the whole day here,” said the captain of the boat, nervously. “We have no engineer now. Ralph, will you run us up the lake?”
“Certainly I will,” replied my father, taking his place at the machinery.
I sat down in the engine-room with him and answered the questions he put to me about the affair. He obeyed the signals given him by the bells, and as soon as the boat was going ahead at full speed, he took a seat at my side.
“Wolf, I have suffered more to-day than in all the rest of my lifetime,” said he, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “If I had lost that money, it would well nigh have killed me. It was a lucky thing that you took that pistol from Waddie.”
“It happened just right; Christy was afraid of it, and when I got the muzzle to bear upon him, he came down, like Crockett’s coon,” I answered, with no little self-complaisance.
“Was he willing to give it up?”