This the clerk was able to do. A man had a large craft he was willing to charter, though he wanted a heavy price for it.
“But boats are scarce,” he declared, “and they’re badly needed in the rescue work.”
“That’s what we want this one for,” said Mr. Ringold. “Now we’ll get her into commission.”
The Clytie, which was the name of the craft, was roomy enough to accomodate the two boys, Mr. Piper and the manager. Blake and Joe had learned to run a gasoline launch, and Mr. Ringold himself was an expert motorist, so there would be no need of a helper.
“But you want to look out for treacherous currents,” the owner of the craft warned them. “The river is worse than it’s been in years. And remember, you’ve got to pay the bill if the boat is damaged.”
Putting the boat into commission was not so quickly accomplished as Mr. Ringold had hoped. There were many things to be done, and, at the last moment some repairs had to be made.
The rain stopped unexpectedly the day after the arrival of our friends in Hannibal, and Blake and Joe, hiring a rowboat, went out to get some moving pictures. They secured some fine views, but coming back they nearly had an accident. For their boat was caught in a cross-current, and would have been upset but for the prompt work of Blake, who swung it around and out of danger in time.
“Well, I guess we’re ready, boys,” announced the manager, two days after he had hired the motor boat. “We’ll start out this morning. We’ve got plenty of food, and other supplies, in case we find the missing ones.”
“And we’ve got plenty of films for pictures!” cried Joe, as he and Blake took their places. The rain still held off, and there were hopes that it would clear long enough for the flood to subside. But this was doubtful.
The Mississippi was still a raging torrent, but the Clytie was a stanch craft, and with care would be able to navigate the turbulent stream.