Read Ebook: The River Motor Boat Boys on the Rio Grande: In Defense of the Rambler by Gordon Harry

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Ebook has 1608 lines and 50558 words, and 33 pages

Case knelt by the side of the wounded boy.

"Do you wish to say something?" he asked.

"Ask him where Clay went," suggested Alex, keeping the baby bear in his arms.

"I don't know," replied the boy, answering the question asked by Alex. "When I came to consciousness there was a white bulldog drawing me out of the river."

"And is that the last you remember?" questioned Case.

"Yes."

"And so Captain Joe fished you out of the drink. Where did he go after that?"

"I did not see him go anywhere. I fainted, I guess."

Alex examined the boy's clothing and found it wet.

"The lad is right about the river," he declared. "The boy must have been swept past our boat. It is a wonder none of us saw him."

"Unless he drifted into the circle of light thrown out by the cabin windows," Case cut in, "we should not have seen him."

"Captain Joe certainly did a good job in making the rescue," Alex added. "How long were you in the water, stranger?"

"When I drifted by the motor boat," replied the boy, "I tried to catch hold of a rope, but was too weak and dazed from the beating I had received. If the dog hadn't found me just as he did, I should have floated on down the river and drowned."

"Good old Captain Joe!" Alex exclaimed. "Somehow he is always to the front!"

"There is a gang of robbers up the river about a mile," said the lad, evidently speaking in great pain. "If you came down the river in a boat, you ought to be looking after her. They are bad men. The marks of their treatment of me are still in sight," he added, smiling faintly. "They beat me because I refused to deliver my boat to them. Well, they have it now, but they had to fight for it," he added.

Anxious as the boys were to learn more about the lad so strangely met, and to relieve his sufferings, they had other things of more importance, at least to themselves, to look after.

Alex, still carrying the baby bear, was off like a shot and Case was not far behind him. The Rio Grande was but a short distance away, but there was a wall of rocks which must be passed before the river came into view.

"Just our luck!" grumbled Case.

Alex, still holding the baby bear, wrinkled his nose.

A NEST OF PIRATES

Coming originally from the south branch of the Chicago river, they had accumulated handsome fortunes during their journeys in quest of adventure, but they still saw the world through boys' eyes, and were not satisfied to settle down to a humdrum life.

This trip down the Rio Grande had long been planned, and now that it was actually begun the lads were jubilant. They had been warned time and again against the uprisings for which Mexico is noted, but, boy-like, they had disregarded them.

As Alex and Case stood now, on the bank of the Rio Grande, their hearts were very heavy.

But the cub nestled closer to the neck of the boy and not being in a conversational mood said nothing at all!

"We may as well return to where the injured boy was left," Case suggested in a moment. "The boys will know where to find us, at least, if we go there, which is more than can be said of any other locality. Just our rotten luck to have Captain Joe find that boy when we haven't got a thing to give him that might add to his comfort!"

"Kick!" laughed Alex. "You'd kick on a mouthful of pie! Say, how would a piece of apple pie go right about now? I'm hungry enough to eat one of those pirates, boots and all!"

"You are likely to be a great deal hungrier before you come upon anything to eat in this rotten hole!" grumbled Case, setting off for the designated spot at a fast walk.

As if to heighten the discomfort of the time, a cold rain began to fall in great gusts, sweeping everything movable before it. Alex was soon wet to the skin.

"How's this for a storm, Mister Teddy Bear, Junior? said the boy, addressing the cub. "There's one thing been overlooked, though," he added, "and that's a little thunder and lightning. There certainly ought to be a batch of thunder and lightning with a peach of a storm like this, don't you think, Teddy?"

But Teddy did not have an opportunity to express his thoughts on the subject, if he had any, for just at that instant there came a blinding flash of lightning, followed immediately by a peal of thunder which seemed to shake the solid earth.

"Whew, but that was a corker!" cried the boy. "Wonder if I'm all here?"

Directly the motor boat came to a halt at the side of a little rocky projection which extended into the stream for some distance, and the boy was no longer in doubt as to the character of the crew.

A frowsy head appeared above the rail of the boat and a hoarse voice demanded:

"Who's there?"

Presently the low murmur of voices was heard, seeming to come from the shore, and Alex listened eagerly, but could not distinguish the voices. At times he was almost certain that the speakers were Clay and Jule, but the wind carried their voices downstream, and he could not be certain. He listened intently, listening at the same time, too, for the sound of advancing footsteps.

But the rush of the wind, the downpour of the rain effectually drowned all other sounds save at rare intervals. The frowsy head, evidently gaining courage, now spoke again.

"Whoever you are, come aboard!" the voice said.

There came a lull in the storm, and Alex was positive that the voices he heard were those of Clay and Jule; still he could not afford to make a mistake. So he waited.

"What are you doing on my boat?" the voice demanded.

There was a great bustle aboard the motor boat, as if search was being made for the speaker, followed by a fluttering of wings and a hoarse, croaking voice:

"What's coming off here?" were the words spoken.

"That's Tommy!" said a voice at Alex's side, and Clay made his appearance in the faint light thrown from the cabin windows.

"Where have you been?" demanded Alex, speaking in a voice loud enough to be heard above the rush of the storm. "Thought sure you had been carried off by the robbers."

"The pirates already had possession of the boat when I reached the shore," Jule explained, "and when Clay came we both followed on down the river in the hope that something would happen to again put us in possession. Say! Just listen to Tommy's conversation! He thinks he is the whole works! He has a horror of being awakened suddenly."

"Tommy" was a great red and green parrot, who had evidently been sound asleep during the short trip down the river. He was making up for lost time now, however, making the boat ring with his screams.

Presently a man's form shot out of the cabin as if fired out of a gun, with the parrot astride of his shoulders! The red and green feathers of the bird shone and glistened under the electric light, the long tail trailed out behind like the tail of a comet, while the topknot was very much in evidence, standing up straight and rigid.

The man thus attacked gave utterance to a string of oaths and billingsgate which would have made a fishwife green with envy.

"The bloomin' bird is clawin' me eyes out!" he shouted, doing his best to dislodge the bird. "Take 'im off, someone!"

"I'll 'ave 'is bloody life!" shouted the fellow, starting away in pursuit, but a chum blocked his entrance to the cabin.

"Have it out with the bird some other time," he advised, with a broad smile. "Just now we have other fish to fry. We came back to get a kid what can operate this boat. There's something wrong with the motors. We got it up the river as far as this, and that's about all, consarn the luck!"

Jule threw his voice across the rushing, water again, but no attention whatever was paid to it.

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