“There’s your dear friend, Oswald Fredericks, Frank!” said Will, as the party hung partly out of a couple of windows in the car they occupied. “And he’s got his eye glued on you, too; don’t forget,” remarked Jerry. “Oh! he’s a good hater, all right,” said Bluff. “If he didn’t have any reason to wish you all sorts of bad luck before, that souse in the river settled it. From now on he’ll never hear the name of Frank Langdon without getting mad, you mark me. And some day, sooner or later, he hopes to have a chance to even up the score.” “Huh! it may come sooner, then,” remarked Jerry, significantly. “See here,” remarked Frank, turning to look at the last speaker, “did you keep your word, and tell Duke Fletcher about our plans this summer?” Jerry nodded his head coolly. “Course I did,” he admitted. “You heard me tell I was going to do it, and nobody said a word. I like to have things going on all the time! What’s the use of living, if you can’t have some excitement once in a while? Besides, I’m hoping Oswald will find a chance to ‘hop’ Frank here. You see, I know what will follow; and he needs a lesson, that upstart does, to take the conceit out of him.” “Oh! well,” remarked Frank, with a whimsical smile, “I believe the old Mississippi is something of a river; and even if they do start down in another houseboat, the chances of running across us wouldn’t amount to much, anyhow. So what’s the use of worrying? We’ve got all we want to do to keep watch for this tricky Marcus Stackpole, the man Uncle Felix seems to think will try to either rob the boat, or steal the entire outfit.” “Somebody pinch me,” said Bluff, as they sat down facing each other in the double seat; “because I just can’t believe it’s so, all these fine times ahead of us, with a houseboat all our own for weeks, and we living on the fat of the land as we go, taking toll of game and fish by the way.” “Huh!” grunted Jerry, “much game you’ll get, with the law on nearly everything that flies; and Frank here a regular stickler for obeying what the law says. But say, we take our guns along, I certainly hope, boys?” “That’s a settled thing,” Frank replied. “We might need them in lots of ways; and while Uncle Felix may have a stock of firearms aboard his boat, we would be foolish to take any chances.” “Hear! hear! that makes me happy!” Bluff exclaimed. “Now he’s just thinking about that pump-gun he owns, and what havoc he can make if ever he sees a flock of ducks on a sand bar!” chuckled Will; for the gun had never been a favorite with either himself or Jerry, who declared it was unsportsmanlike to be able to send a volley into a bevy of quail, from a repeating shotgun, though with a rifle the case was different.