"Come on, Larry, we're going to see the village of the McGees sooner than we expected," and as he stepped from the boat to the shore, Phil took care to link his arm with that of his chum, being desirous of cheering the other up as well as possible.
"And do we have to walk two miles over all that ricketty kind of land?" groaned poor fat Larry, perspiring at the very thought of the labor.
So they left the motor boat, and Phil could not help wondering whether they were fated to ever set eyes on it again. Perhaps the men might disregard the orders of their chief, and loot the craft of everything movable, even disabling the steady going motor, so that it would be as so much waste junk afterwards.
Tony must have divined his thoughts, for he took occasion to run alongside, and mutter in Phil's ear:
"Don't yuh bother 'bout the boat; she won't be teched arter what he sed. Ther man don't live thet dar's go ag'in McGee's order. Hit's all right, Phil, all right!"
They quickly reached the spot where the big signal fire had burned long enough to bring the crowd all the way from the distant village. It was still blazing up now and then, so that the near vicinity was far from gloomy; but the work of the fire had been finished.
McGee led the way straight to where the long hollowed-out log boat rested, the prow drawn up on the shelving shore.
"Git in!" he said, in his deep voice that was like the rumble of distant thunder.
"Bully! we're going to paddle down by water! Ain't I glad though!" exclaimed the relieved Larry, as he only too gladly clambered over the edge, and found a seat amidships of the dugout canoe.
"Yuh git in too, Tony," said McGee, gloomily, as he motioned to his boy.