CHAPTER VII
IN DANGER
Jerry, Ned and Bob were gazing straight into the faces of Bill Berryand Noddy Nixon. The two cronies, in turn, returned the stare, andto our friends it seemed as if there was an insolent look on Noddy’sface--a sort of half smile of triumph, as if he had divined theirplans, and was going to try to frustrate them.
“Mind your wheel!” suddenly called Ned sharply to the tall steersman.“There’s a rock just ahead of you, Jerry!”
“That’s so, I forgot about that,” and Jerry twisted the rudder about sothat the _Dartaway_ swung toward the middle of the stream, missing therock by a narrow margin.
“Too close for comfort,” murmured Bob.
“That’s right,” agreed Jerry. “I don’t know why I should have stared soat Noddy.”
“It looks as if he and Bill came out on purpose to see us off,”commented Ned, as the motor boat rapidly opened up a gap betweenherself and the rowing craft. “I wonder if he heard what Andy saidabout Pittsburg?”
“I’m afraid so,” said the tall lad. “Sounds carry very clearly overthe water, you know, and Andy has rather a loud voice. Well, it can’tbe helped, and I suppose the only thing for us to do is to be on ourguard.”
“That’s all,” agreed Ned, and by this time they had gone around a bend,losing sight of the rowboat, and the dock from which they had started.The last glimpse they had of Andy Rush was when that excitable chap wasdancing up and down, waving his hands to them, and doubtless lettingoff all sorts of explosive expressions.
Professor Snodgrass, during this episode, had taken no part in theconversation, remaining quietly in his place, scanning the water fora glimpse of some rare aquatic insect. At times he would dip into theriver a small net he carried, and, bringing it up filled with mosquitowrigglers, or other forms of life, he would gravely examine his catchthrough a magnifying glass.
“Ah, here is a rare one!” he would occasionally cry. “A triple-jointedworm. But I don’t understand how it got into the water, as it is a formof land life. This is very puzzling. I must make notes on this. Perhapsthe worm, having lived on land all its life, is going to becomeaquatic in his habits, as the whale did centuries ago. It is verystrange.”
“Let’s see the worm, Professor?” requested Ned, when he had adjustedthe motor to work smoothly, and while Jerry was steering in and out toavoid floating logs.
“There it is,” said the scientist, lifting the specimen out of one ofthe glass-topped boxes. “A beautiful creature! Most perfect! And yet Icannot account for it being in the water. I shall devote a good deal ofspace in my new book to this find. Perhaps I am the first to discoverit, and, if so, I shall be made an honorary member of the Society forAdvanced Scientific Research. A most beautiful and perfect specimen!”
“Why, it’s an angle worm--a fish worm!” cried Bob, as he caught sightof the wriggling creature. “A common, ordinary angle worm!”
“Of course it is,” agreed the professor. “I know that. It is, as yousay, an angle worm--_angulus vermis_ it might be called or even _vermislophius piscatorius_. The first Latin words being merely indicative ofangle and worm, while the latter, which I prefer, indicates the curiousfish known as the angler, and which is said to catch other fish byangling for them with some attachment to its head, which resembles abaited hook. Of course it’s an angle worm, Bob, but the funny part ofit is how did it get in the water?”
“Easily enough,” spoke Ned. “The river is much higher than usual, and Isuppose it has overflowed some bank, and washed the poor worms out. I’mafraid, Professor, that you can’t claim to be the discoverer of a newkind of worm.”
“Oh pshaw! I guess you’re right!” exclaimed Uriah Snodgrass indisappointed tones. “That accounts for it. Well, I don’t want thespecimen then,” and he tossed it back into the water. There was alittle swirl, amid the muddy waves, and something grabbed the floatingworm.
“Fish!” cried Bob. “There are lots of fish around here, fellows. I’mgoing to catch some for dinner.”
“There he goes again!” cried Ned with a laugh. “We’ve just hadbreakfast, and yet he’s thinking of the next meal. Oh, Bob! You’rehopeless.”
“All right, you don’t have to eat the fish,” retorted the stout lad, ashe got out his line and some bait he had thought to bring along. “I’llcatch ’em, and Jerry and I and the professor will eat ’em. You can liveon canned sardines.”
“You won’t catch any with the water as high and as muddy as it isto-day,” predicted Ned.
“Just you watch,” was all Bob replied.
He cast in, as Jerry steered the boat, the tall lad having to give hiswhole attention to it, for the stream was filled with floating débristhat had been carried down by the rising water, and it required skillto avoid collisions. But Jerry knew his business, and rarely did a logscrape the _Dartaway_ ever so gently.
Bob went out on the little after-deck to fish, while the professor alsotook his place there to look for more valuable specimens than angleworms. Ned busied himself about the engine, and got out some packagesof food, and the dishes that would be needed for the mid-day meal.
Bob did have pretty good luck fishing, and, when noon came, he had anumber of good-sized specimens. In order that Jerry could enjoy hismeal without having to eat with one hand and steer with the other, theboat was tied up in a little cove and there Bob proceeded to get dinneron the gasolene stove that was in a small galley off the main cabin.
“Um! But this is good!” murmured the stout lad with his mouth fairlywell filled.
“It’s a bad habit for cooks to praise their own broth,” remarked Ned.
“Well, isn’t it good?” demanded Bob.
“Of course it is,” put in Jerry. “It’s a good meal, Chunky, and Ned isonly jealous. Don’t mind him.”
“I don’t intend to,” declared the stout lad, helping himself to morefish.
They started off again after dinner, and making good speed, aided bythe current of the river, they found themselves that night on a smalllake into which the stream emptied. They tied up near shore, and, thecollapsible bunks being let down, they retired, after sitting up for awhile, talking over the events of the day.
“This sure is sport,” declared Ned, as he pulled the blankets over him,for, while the day was warm it was cool at night on the water.
“It’s the right way to spend a vacation,” agreed Bob.
“And when we get in the auto, and the airship, we’ll have more funyet,” predicted Jerry. “I’m anxious to get to Snake Island.”
“I hope that place doesn’t get its name from the fact that it’s filledwith snakes,” commented Ned, in sleepy tones. “I hate the things.”
“I hope there are a lot of the reptiles,” spoke the professor. “I maybe able to get a few specimens. And I certainly do want to get thattwo-tailed toad.”
“And I want some radium,” added Jerry.
The next day’s trip was without incident, and by night they had crossedthe lake to its outlet, down which they expected to proceed for about ahundred miles.
The first part of this trip was delightful, but on the third day itrained hard, and they had to stay cooped up in the cabin, which was notmuch fun. But the storm could not last forever, and the sun finallycame out, to the satisfaction of all.
“Well, we’ll soon have to take a little land journey,” remarked Ned, atthe close of the fifth day of their trip.
“How’s that?” asked the professor. “Are you going to desert the boat?”
“No,” spoke Bob, “but by to-morrow noon we’ll come to the end of watertravel, for a short space. That is, we’ll need to have the boat hauledover land to the canal that connects with the river by which we willget on the Alleghany. I wrote to a man who is going to move the boat,and he promised to be on hand with a big truck, and some helpers. We’llrun the _Dartaway_ up on the truck, drive over to the canal, and floather again. Then it will be smooth sailing to Pittsburg.”
“And we haven’t seen a sign o
f Noddy Nixon,” remarked Ned.
“I hope we don’t--the whole trip,” spoke Jerry earnestly.
It was a little before noon when they had gone as far as was practicalup the stream on which they were then motoring.
“The dock where the truck is to meet us must be around here somewhere,”said Ned, who was steering.
“There’s a man just ahead, who seems to be waving to us,” put in Jerry.
“That’s the place!” cried the merchant’s son. “Now we’re all right.”
It was no easy work to get the _Dartaway_ out of the water, and uponthe truck, but finally it was accomplished by means of tackle andwindlass.
“Are you boys going to walk, or ride on the truck to the canal?” askedthe teamster, as he gathered up the reins of the four powerful horses.
“Guess we might as well ride,” decided Ned. “We’ll be there as soon asyou are then.”
Accordingly the boys climbed up on the truck, and seated themselves inthe cabin of their boat. The professor accompanied them, and the menwho were to help unload the boat dispersed themselves about the bigvehicle.
It was about a two hours’ ride to the canal, with so heavy a load, aspart of the distance was up hill. When about half of the journey hadbeen accomplished one of the men discovered that the boat was slippingdown toward the end of the truck, and a halt had to be called to shiftit forward.
“We don’t want it sliding off, and trying to navigate in the dust!”exclaimed the truckman with a laugh.
Professor Snodgrass grew restless at the delay and finally climbed downoff the vehicle, with an insect net.
“I’m going to walk on ahead,” he remarked. “I may be able to catch afew rare bugs. I think I can find the way to the canal all right, incase you don’t overtake me.”
“It’s a straight road,” called Ned, who had provided himself with mapsof their journey.
The professor walked on, swinging his net from side to side in anendeavor to catch a butterfly or bug.
“Has he been that way long?” asked one of the men of Jerry, as therecame a pause in the work of shifting the boat.
“What way?”
“Cracked, you know. Crazy--bug-house? Does he get violent?”
“Oh!” laughed the tall lad. “He’s not crazy,” and then he explainedwhat a scientist Mr. Snodgrass was.
“Um,” said the man apparently unconvinced. “It does take queer forms,sometimes. I had a cousin who always wanted to sleep with his shoes on.No accounting for their notions. Come on, now, all together! Heave!”
Jerry gave up the attempt to make the man understand, and, a littlelater, the boat was shifted back to its place, and the journey resumed.
They were almost at the end of it, and were going down a slight hill,when suddenly a dog, running out from a farmhouse, dashed at the offforward horse, and nipped its leg. The frightened animal reared,crowded its mate, and, a moment later, dashed ahead, breaking one ofthe reins. The next instant the team of four powerful steeds was in awild gallop down the hill, the truck swaying from side to side in theroad, and the motor boat creaking and groaning as it strained at theropes that held it fast.
“Stop the horses!” yelled one of the men.
“We’ll have a smash-up in another minute if you don’t!” added Bob.
“The boat is slipping back again!” cried Ned. “Jerry--Bob--help holdher on! If she slips off into the road she’ll be smashed!”
The lads braced themselves against their craft to prevent it slidingoff. Some of the men helped them, but, in spite of this, the terrificspeed of the truck threatened to bring about the danger they weretrying to avoid.
“Stop those horses, Bill!” yelled one of the men.
“I can’t!” cried the truckman. “One line is busted, and if I pull onthe other I’ll run them into the ditch, and then we _will_ be in amess. I’ve got to let ’em run it out.”
“They’ll run us into the canal if they keep on much longer!” criedsomeone.
“Brace, everybody!” gasped Ned, as he felt the boat slipping nearer andnearer to the end of the truck.
“Put on the brakes!” suggested Bob.
“Got ’em on, but that’s all the good it does,” responded the truckman.“I’m afraid we’re goners, boys! Get ready to jump when you see thewater. Whoa, there! Whoa!” he called in vain to the horses, who werestill madly galloping down the hill.
“I guess it’s all up with the _Dartaway_,” murmured Jerry, as hepressed his shoulder against the craft.