The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat; Or, The Rivals of the Mississippi — John Shaqi
The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat; Or, The Rivals of the MississippiAllen, Quincy
General
The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat; Or, The Rivals of the Mississippi
Allen, Quincy
Houseboats -- Juvenile fiction; Mississippi River -- Juvenile fiction
Dripping from head to foot, and looking like a half-drowned rat, the son
of the St. Paul millionaire finally managed to regain the road. He was
certainly a forlorn-looking figure. Even a couple of his friends grinned
a little behind his back; while Bluff and Jerry made no pretense of
hiding their delight. Frank half expected that the other would attack
him, though there was not the slightest reason for it, since he had not
even touched young Fredericks when so deftly stepping aside.
“What did you do that for, Langdon?” spluttered the other, shivering,
either with the cold, or the excitement following his unexpected dip in
the water.
“I don’t know that I did anything, except to get out of your way,”
returned Frank, quietly. “You seemed to want the whole road, and I was
for giving it to you. What do you find about that to complain of,
Fredericks?”
“Oh! go on,” sneered the other. “You knew mighty well that if you jumped
out of the way I’d go into the river.”
“Well,” remarked Frank, steadily, keeping his eyes on Oswald, “it was
either you or me; and I wasn’t at all anxious to get wet; so since you
would have it, I let you have first choice. If you’d kept to your side
of the road nothing would have happened. You’ve only yourself to blame.
You tried to put up a little game on me, and the biter got bitten
himself; that’s all there is to it.”
“Think you’re pretty smart; don’t you, Langdon?” snarled the other, who
in his anger quite forgot his elegant ways, and seemed ready to descend
to the manner of a common bully. “You set up that game on me, and you
know it. Didn’t I see you telling Bluff Masters what you would do if I
happened to brush up against you? I’ve a good notion to give you what
you ought to have had long ago.”
“You don’t say?” remarked Frank, pleasantly; “and suppose you tell me
what that might be, Fredericks.”
“A sound drubbing; and I can do it, too, I want you to know!” snarled
the other, making a forward movement, though two of his boon companions
managed to get a grip on his shoulders and hold him back.
Frank deliberately took off his coat, and handed it to Will Milton.
“That’s a new coat,” he said, calmly, “and I wouldn’t want to get it
soiled by rubbing up against your dirty and wet clothes. Now, suppose
you start in, and give me what you say I need; because to-morrow may be
too late, as we start for home in the morning. This is a nice, quiet
spot, and we stand little chance of being bothered by any outsiders.”
“Let me go; can’t you, fellows?” cried Oswald, making a great show of
trying to break away from the detaining hands of his chums; though Bluff
noticed that it was something of a pretense after all.
“Don’t be a fool, Ossie,” said Raymond Ellis, in a low voice; “you know
that Langdon’s said to be as strong as an ox. He made the baseball team,
and will be in the football squad next fall. Let it drop; can’t you? It
was a bad job all around, and you got caught in your own trap.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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