No doubt these things had their influence upon Oswald. He looked at Frank after he had climbed aboard his own boat, and seemed almost about to stretch out his hand, to thank him for all he had done; but the old spirit was still uppermost. “So-long, Langdon. Do as much for you some day, perhaps. But, of course you had to save your own bacon in the bargain; for as soon as you ran they believed you were strike-breakers as much as they did me. All the same, it was rather decent of you; and perhaps you may not be the bad lot I’ve considered you.” Frank only smiled, and made no reply, as he paddled back to his own boat. But he knew that his chums were boiling with indignation, for as they once more resumed their passage down-stream Bluff burst out with: “Well, of all the mean, ornery skunks I ever met up with, that Ossie Fredericks takes the cake. He hasn’t even common decency enough to offer to shake hands, and thank the fellows who stood all that stone pelting just to drag him in out of the wet. Shucks! I wish now, Frank, we’d just let him take his medicine. He’d be getting all he deserved, and no more, the ungrateful cur!” “You never can tell,” said Frank, calmly. “Perhaps, when he gets to thinking it over, he may see a light; but we only did our duty. Bluff; and that’s got to be our reward.” CHAPTER XVIII—WHAT JERRY’S STICK BROUGHT DOWN More days passed, and the houseboat was making steady progress down the Mississippi, with as happy a party of lads aboard as could be found anywhere. Indeed, each day seemed to bring new delights along with it; and so lighthearted were the chums that every little while Bluff would break out in some college song, to be joined in the chorus by several other hearty voices. They fished many times, and took toll of the waters they passed over; though sometimes the hooks came in empty, and they had to change the order arranged for dinner that evening. Once Bluff, who had gone ashore with his favorite gun over his shoulders, was heard to shoot several times; and the others were more or less concerned as to what manner of spoils he might have run across; for really at this time of year the law did not allow of hunting, save for woodcock, and very few other edible kinds of game. When he came in shortly afterwards it was to fling down a magnificent specimen of the red-tailed hawk. “Why, would you believe it,” asserted Bluff, stoutly, “the measly thing just went for me like hot cakes, and I never did a thing to rile her up. I had to use my gun first of all, to club her away; and then, as she darted down at me, I just thought it was a mighty poor game that two couldn’t play at; so I began to shoot. Took several times to make her be good. Looky here, where she scratched me in the cheek when she tried to carry me off at first.”