Motor Boat Boys Mississippi Cruise; or, The Dash for DixieArundel, Louis
General
Motor Boat Boys Mississippi Cruise; or, The Dash for Dixie
Arundel, Louis
Mississippi River -- Juvenile fiction; Motorboats -- Juvenile fiction
The little launch floated on the bosom of the creek, fastened to the
shore. At times she heaved gently, as some wave of larger proportions
than usual came in from the river, possibly caused by a passing
steamboat's suction. But by this time the boys were getting accustomed
to this sort of thing. One night afloat had taken off the newness for
them, and they could sleep now through any ordinary motion.
Something digging him in the ribs aroused Jack. Then a voice whispered
in his ear, and he knew that it was Jimmie.
"Jack, wake up! I hear voices beyand, and I do belave the thaves of
the worrld are comin' to clane us out, so I do!"
"'Sh!" was all Jack made reply; but at the same instant his hand groped
for the reliable gun so close at hand.
Once this was in his possession he gently lifted the flap of the
waterproof tent that covered the boat; for he knew just where to find
this loose portion, left so for an emergency of this sort.
The storm had departed, and the sky was now clear. While it was far
from light without, still to Jack's eyes things looked fairly plain.
And the first thing he saw seemed to be moving figures, two of them,
that were creeping toward the tied-up motor boat.
Now and then they would pause, and then low and significant whispers
would follow. Jack felt a thrill pass over his frame as he began to
quietly thrust the muzzle of the shotgun through the opening of the
tent. He did not intend to aim at the prowlers of course, but hoped
the sudden shot might give them a good fright.
Jimmie was creeping toward the bow, as if desirous of seeing all that
went on; when Jack, feeling that he was certainly privileged to defend
his property against pirates, pulled the trigger which his trembling
finger had been pressing; and a sudden roar awoke the echoes of the
night.
CHAPTER VI.
STARTLING NEWS FROM NEAR HOME.
"Run, ye spalpeens, run wid ye!" whooped Jimmie, as he thrust his
tousled red head through the opening at the bow.
Jack was prepared to repeat the shooting part of the business if there
seemed any necessity; and perhaps the next time he would not be so
particular about aiming so as to miss the prowlers.
But he immediately saw that there would be no need, for already the
pair of would-be thieves could be heard crashing madly through the
undergrowth, in the endeavor to make a safe getaway.
Jimmie continued to send derisive shouts after them until Jack advised
that he had better bottle up the balance of his enthusiasm.
"But did ye say how they tumbled over wan another whin ye let go?"
demanded the Irish lad, gleefully.
"Well," remarked the skipper, dryly, "I noticed that they never waited
to leave us a visiting card. And Jimmie, this proves how wise I was to
fetch my gun along. I'd advise every fellow who intends to knock about
along this river to have some way of defending himself in case of need."
With which remark Jack slipped a new shell into the chamber of his
double barrel shotgun.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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