“And I want to serve notice here and now,” continued Bluff, as he affectionately patted his pump-gun, and held it up to the gaze of the others; “that after this there’s going to be no sort of sport made of this noble weapon. Today it saved Frank and myself a mauling. When they saw what it was, they cringed like a pack of cowards. Why, would you believe it? that Ellis just crawled under the table! Shows the kind of fellow he is. And, boys, the gun was empty and out of commission all the while, remember.” “Hurrah! bully for Bluff. He’s got the right name!” shouted Jerry, in his enthusiasm, pretending to wave the hat he was not wearing at the time. “Promise me to never more sneer at a pump-gun, as long as I carry this prize cannon along!” continued Bluff, seriously, but with a sparkle in his eye. “We solemnly promise!” said Will, holding up his right hand. “I’ll try and control my indignation whenever I can, Bluff,” said Jerry. “But all the same I’m thinking it was the fellow behind the gun, and not that weapon itself, that deserves the praise. What’s the matter, Will; you look as if you felt bad because you didn’t have a hand in it, too?” “Oh! it’s the hardest luck ever,” said the other, in deep disgust. “Just to think what a noble picture that would have made, with our chum holding the crowd at bay with his gun; Frank ready to sail in and help; and Ellis crawling under the table! I’m the most unfortunate fellow you ever heard tell of, to miss such glorious chances. I wish you’d only tell me when you think there’s anything going to happen, so I could jump in, and immortalize you all. But some fine day I’ll be along when one of these things happens; see if I don’t!” CHAPTER X—A CALL FOR HELP “I tell you what, Frank, that was a great scheme of yours, to think of buying this little skiff for a dinghy, or tender!” remarked Bluff, three days later, as he paddled ashore with the end of the cable they expected to fasten to a tree, as the night was not far away. “Well, I knew all along that every decent houseboat ought to have a small skiff dangling along,” Frank answered, as he leaned over the side, and watched the other hitch the painter to the bow of the large, roomy craft, which continued to point down-stream; for, when fastening up for the night, as stem and stern were so much alike, they never bothered bringing the boat around, as that meant additional work in the morning upon starting. “And I expect to enjoy a heap of fishing from that same little affair,” remarked Jerry, “when we get further along down the big river.” “Now, heave ho! everybody, and we’ll have her snug alongside the bank in a jiffy!” Frank called out, taking hold of the cable, while the others used the several stout poles that had been secured for the purpose of pushing. “There she is, right side up with care! Now, let’s hope we’ll be better off than last night, when we got the cross current wash of the Wisconsin River.”