GETTING OUT OF THE MUD
Clay's face plainly expressed the dismay he felt as he bent over the
gunwale and looked downward in the growing light of the morning. The
_Rambler_ lay in a bed of soft, oozy mud, with harder ground between
her and the "tow-head."
"I presume," Alex. said, "that the people of this country will be glad
to see that the river lowered in the night! So are we?"
"We ought to have provided against this," Clay exclaimed, in
self-reproach. "We might just as well have anchored a few yards
farther down. What next, I wonder?"
"The longer we wait before getting the motor boat into the water,"
Alex. said, "the harder work it will be, for the river is lowering
every minute."
Clay scratched his head and estimated the distance to deep water.
"We'll have to put on our bathing suits and take to the mud," he
decided. "By all taking hold, we may be able to get her out of this
mess. Nice job it is, too!"
"Sure!" Alex. grinned. "Mud baths are healthful! There's Mike Cogan,
the Chicago politician, he goes to take mud baths twice a year! If we
had him here now we wouldn't charge him a cent for his cure! I think
he'd like it, too."
"I'll wake Case and Jule, and we'll get right at it," Clay said. "I
wish a lot of husky plantation hands would happen along in a shanty
boat."
"There was a group of them over on the Mississippi side last night,"
Alex. explained. "We might get them, if they are there yet. Say," he
continued, with a grin, "I believe that is where the little coon went!
He saw the camp-fire and heard the plantation songs, and couldn't
remain away from his own people!"
"In that case," Clay suggested, "the little rascal will be back soon."
"Never can tell about boys of the Mose stripe," Alex. predicted. "He
may follow the men off and never show up here again."
Clay started for the cabin to arouse Case and Jule and then turned
back to ask:
"Did that pocket book--the bag, rather, that had the diamonds in, make
its appearance before or after Mose disappeared?"
"I don't know when Mose lit out," was the reply. "At one time I heard
a splash in the river and looked to see what it was about, but Mose
was not in sight then. There was only a large stick floating in the
stream. Still, he might have gone at that time. If he did, he left
long after the bag was thrown on deck. What about it?"
"I was thinking that he might have followed off the person who threw
the bag," Clay explained, "though I can't understand why he should
have gone away so secretly. Did the dog make any remarks about the
time the bag reached the deck?"
"Nix on Captain Joe! He's getting too sleepy! He stirred only once in
the night, and that was when the boat was coming up to us. He
frightened the pirates away, when Case and I had planned to shoot 'em
up!"
"Then," concluded Clay, "when we reach the truth of it, we'll discover
that it was Chet who was around here last night, and who threw the bag
on deck. You know we have been thinking, all along, that he might have
taken it."
"That's what Jule insists on," Alex. returned, "while the rest of us
think one of the visitors took it, and that Chet chased off the boat
to get it back, not knowing that the diamonds had been taken out of
it."
"It seems clear now," Clay replied, "that Chet took it. In the first
place, there is no good reason for supposing that the visitors would
find the bag, or take it if they did find it; or take any trouble to
return it after they had found its contents of no value. Chet got it,
all right, and, disappointed and chagrined at the substitution we had
made, he lost no time in throwing it back at us."
"Chet was broke, wasn't he?" asked Alex., with a sly grin.
"So far as I know, yes. Anyway, he didn't look like a millionaire when
we took him on board and fixed him out with a suit of your clothes!"
"Then how would he ride up the river in a steamer, or ride down the
river to the next town to take the steamer, or hire a rowboat and pay
the captain of the steamer for letting him off in his boat as soon as
he saw the light of the _Rambler_?"
"You smash all my solutions," laughed Clay. "Now, give me one of your
own, so I can smash that,"
"I ain't no prophet!" grinned the red-headed boy, "but I'm gambling
that when we get down to the bottom of matters we'll find Red, the
Robber, in the mess!"
"We have already found him in the mess," laughed Clay. "He knew,
according to your story, that I had put something in the safety
vaults! Besides, he seemed to own the steamer you were on, didn't he?"
"He seemed to be the boss."
"Suppose we quit guessing and get the _Rambler_ out of the mud,"
suggested Clay, then.
Case and Jule were called out on deck, and the lads, clad only in
their bathing suits, were soon wallowing in the soft mud, which was so
deep that they could get no footing at all, and so could not lift on
the boat. In fact, the more they tried to lift the boat, to slide it
toward deep water, the deeper she seemed to sink.
"We're up against a beautiful proposition!" Jule exclaimed, climbing
back on deck and leaning over the gunwale. "If we jar the boat any
more, we'll have to take a trip to China and pull it through from the
other side!"
Clay plowed out of the mud and made his way to the "tow-head" where he
began examining the growth of willows. He seemed satisfied with what
he saw, for he began cutting the long wands and called to the others
to join him.
"What's doing?" asked Case.
"This ain't no island improvement corporation!" Alex. grinned.
"I know what he's up to!" Jule shouted, and in a second he was off the
deck, cutting willows and throwing them into a heap at the edge of the
hard ground.
"We've got to make mattresses of these willows," Jule declared, wiping
the sweat from his face. "I read about that in a paper not long ago."
"To sleep on?" asked Alex., with a wink at Case.
"Silly!" roared Jule. "Get busy, both of you."
When a great stack of the willow wands had been cut, Clay and Jule
began roughly braiding them together. In this way two mattresses a
foot in thickness and nearly twelve feet square were constructed
before noon. During all this time the boys had seen nothing of Chet,
of Mose, or of the negroes who had camped on the shore the previous
night. They had also overlooked breakfast!
The novelty of their employment had so engaged their attention that
they felt no need of food until Teddy appeared on the deck sitting up
like a man, begging for his breakfast! Then Alex. threw down the wands
he was carrying to Clay, who was doing the weaving at that time, and
sprang over to the boat with a chuckle of amusement.
"You're all right, Teddy Bear!" he cried. "We don't know enough to eat
when we're hungry, do we? We'll show 'em what it is to feed up right
without delay."
"What you going to get for dinner?" demanded Jule, putting a hand to
his stomach to show how empty it was. "I want a whale fried whole!"
"Get your whale, then," advised Alex.
"Perhaps you think I can't!" laughed Jule. "Pass out my line and rod
and I'll show you whether I'm a fisherman or not!"
Alex. did as requested and Jule waded through the mud to where there
was a bit of hard ground, next the island, with a little swirl of
water close by.
"Watch me now!" he cried.
But the boys did not care to watch him. Case and Clay continued the
work of braiding mattresses, and Alex. got out a gun and sat on deck
watching for ducks, of which there were plenty in that vicinity.
Presently a yell from Jule called the attention of the others to him.
He was fighting a fish which seemed to the astonished boys to be not
less than ten feet in length, and the fish was pulling him down
stream.
"Give me a hand!" the boy shouted. "He's pulling me in!"
"Let go the line!" cried Alex.
"And lose it!" answered Jule. "Not much! Give me a hand!"
Case and Clay both rushed to the boy's assistance, and with great
effort a monster fish was landed in the mud. Jule was jubilant.
"The biggest catch of the trip!" he declared. "Who says I can't
produce a whale when I feel the need of a whole one fried?"
Case and Clay leaned back and screamed with amusement. Alex. looked on
with a grin which was more provoking than the laughter of the others.
"Have all the fun you can," roared Jule, "but don't get gay!"
"Throw him back into the river!" Clay advised, poking at the catch.
"That is just a big catfish, and no one eats them save the negroes!
They're tougher than the tripe at Bill's restaurant, in Chicago!"
"I guess you won't throw him away!" yelled Jule.
"All right!" Clay answered. "Take him to bed with you, if you want to,
but kindly see if you can't get a bass for our dinner. There are
plenty of them in here."
Reluctantly Jule started the catfish back toward his natural element,
and the big fellow seemed to thank him with a parting wave of his tail
as he took to the water. In a few moments he had a fine large bass,
weighing six or eight pounds, and before long Alex. had a couple of
ducks, so work was suspended while dinner was cooked and eaten. After
the meal the work was continued until Case declared there were enough
willow mattresses on hand to float a city.
Then the mattresses were hauled alongside the _Rambler_ and a
considerable part of the cargo of the boat was put out on them. Thus
lightened, and having a strong footing, the lads had no difficulty in
pushing the _Rambler_ out into deep water.
"What shall we do with the mattresses now?" asked Clay, as the boat
swung off the bottom. "We have spent too much time on them to throw
them away!"
"Tow them along," advised Case. "It won't cost us anything to tote
them along, and we may have use for them. A man could build a tent on
them, by fastening them together, and live there. I'm strong for
taking them with us."
This was finally agreed to, and the boys were about to start down the
stream again when a shout from the Mississippi side of the river
attracted their attention.
"There's that little coon!" laughed Case. "See the rascal! He's going
to swim to the boat, or going to try to!"
"He never can do it," Clay declared. "We'll have to swing the
_Rambler_ over that way and pick him up. He's making a swift run,
though!"
"Well," Alex. replied, "just you look behind him and see what he's
running from."
Half a dozen negroes and one white man were now seen running down the
river bank in pursuit of Mose. They seemed to redouble their exertions
when the _Rambler_ shot over toward the boy, but were obliged to halt
when the boy was picked up and the boat went on down stream, towing
the willow mattresses in her wake!
Mose dropped down on deck, panting and rolling his eyes.
"Ah'm scared white!" he chattered. "Fo' de Lawd, dat's de man what
trun dis coon an' Captain Joe into the ribber up no'th! Ah's scared of
him!"