“What do you say, Frank?” asked the captain, turning to the leader of the chums, and by that action admitting that he entertained great respect for the opinion of the boy who had done so much to save the steamboat.
“I think the gentleman is right,” came the quick response.
“That we ought to search the tramps now,” queried the captain, anxiously; for he felt certain that this move would bring on a fight, which might add still further to the excitement of the already terrified women aboard.
“Undoubtedly. Just as he says, they might think it good policy to conceal their plunder somewhere about the boat, hoping to get it later on, after the excitement had died out. And if you want any help in doing that same thing, Captain, count on myself and two chums.”
The answer came so readily from the lips of the canoeist that Captain Amos was almost overcome. He thrust out his hand impulsively, exclaiming:
“Say, that’s awful kind of you, Frank. We may need your assistance, for, to tell the truth, those hoboes looked mighty tough, and I reckon they’ll put up some sort of a fight before giving in. I only hope they don’t happen to have any sort of guns about them. Wait till I call up Simmons the engineer, Codding the pilot, and Adolphus the coon deckhand. If Mr. Pemberton gives us a hand we will have eight to cow the rascals.”
“We will need the whole bunch if they are half as tough as you say, Captain,” declared Jerry, anxious to be heard.
The captain beckoned, and a negro boy came running up.
“Go and tell the pilot and engineer to come here at once, and you accompany them,” he said.
“Yas, sah!” replied the willing worker, shooting away with a look of curiosity toward the others, as if wondering what new trouble had arisen.