“That’s right. The stunts we did in New York were strenuous enough for a starter, but in the jungle, and in earthquake land—good night!—as the poet says!” exclaimed Blake.
“And this is going to be worse, if I’m any judge,” went on Joe, as he nodded in the direction of the flooded river.
“Guess you’re right,” agreed his chum.
They kept on through the town, making a few purchases in stores where women were the only clerks, the men being down at the levee.
“There they are!” exclaimed Joe, as he and Blake turned into the main street, from a side one, and caught sight of Mr. Ringold and C. C.
“They look as though something had happened,” observed Blake, as he noticed their friends hurrying toward them.
“Maybe they heard about you falling overboard, but didn’t hear of your rescue,” suggested his companion. But it was not that, as the boys learned a moment later.
Waving a slip of paper over his head, Mr. Ringold cried:
“I’ve got news, boys! News of our missing friends!”
“Really!” cried Joe.