“They’ll bump into the bridge at Hanley’s Crossing,” I heard one of them say to another.
“What do we care for a few bumps?” Will Dawson called. “Did you enjoy your sodas? So sorry we couldn’t join you, but our ship was sailing.”
“That shows what you get for not taking my advice,” Pee-wee screamed at them. “You stick to me and you’ll have adventures. You said you were disgusted with this old car. Now you see! It’s good I didn’t go to Temple Camp with the Ravens. Now you see! Ya-ha, ya-ha!”
“We can rave all right without the Ravens,” I said.
“Where are you going?” Dorry Benton called.
“Oh, we’re not particular,” I called back. “We’re going till we stop and then we won’t go any further. It’s so dull hanging around Bridgeboro. We should worry where we’re going.”
“We don’t know where we’re going but we’re on our way,” Will shouted at them.
“I’m captain,” the inventor shouted.
By that time we had drifted past them and it was too far to call and they just stood there, gaping. It was awful funny to see them.
They knew that we couldn’t get any further than Hanky’s Crossing because the tide was too high for us to go under the bridge there, and I knew they’d hike down there as fast as their legs would take them.