“Keep back, ‘Duke,’” he said, quietly, “or you’ll get mixed up in a good deal of a row.”
“Yes, you’d better!” said Bob Somers, quietly, and, as the tramp showed no intention of heeding this well-meant advice, seven pairs of hands reached down, for even Fred was aroused, and seven mud-balls were hastily formed.
Then Jack spoke up again:
“Did you hear?”
“I hear’d,” snarled the “Duke.” “We ain’t a-goin’ to do a thing to you. Wait till——”
“One—two—three!” Jack’s voice interrupted.
The “Duke,” urged by his companion, who had just scrambled ashore, broke into a run.
Then Jack nodded to his chums.
“Let him have it,” he said, still quietly.
Seven arms drew back, and seven missiles shot through the air.