The River Motor Boat Boys on the Amazon; Or, The Secret of Cloud Island — Context and Discussion

ning a moment to the pounding of the rain, the complaining of the river, the roar of the city which lay all around them, closed the door, producing the effect to one outside of obliterating the deck and the pier, the warehouse and the river, as if they had never existed at all.

“Jule will get soaking wet and take cold!” fretted a third voice as the door closed. “Besides, being on guard, he ought never to have left the boat!”

One of the boys who had stood in the doorway wiped the rain from his face as he listened and grinned at the other.

“No need to have a fit about it, even if Jule does get soaked,” he said. “But he won’t get wet,” he added, entirely for the benefit of the one who had grumbled, “he’ll be back here in a minute as dry as a pound of powder.”

“How’s he going to get through all that,” with a swing of the arm toward the door, “without getting wet? I suppose you think he’ll be able to dodge the drops!”

“Anyway, what’s the use of getting him wet and sick in our minds?” cut in another, good-naturedly. “That won’t help any. Most of the hard luck we’ve had lately never caught up with us—except in our minds!”

“Case”—Cornelius Witters where full names are insisted on—turned a dejected face to the others.

“He shouldn’t have gone out,” he grumbled.

“Speaking of hard luck that never caught up with us,” said Clay—he had inherited from his parents, his only inheritance, by the way, the name of Gayton Emmett—“do you remember the time we lost $50 by taking in a counterfeit bill?”

“Yes,” laughed Alex—Alexander Smithwick on state occasions—“we lost the $50 for one day and one night, until we could get to a bank. Then it wasn’t lost at all, for the note was genuine! You know the story how a man hired a professional worrier to take trouble off his mind? Suppose we hire one? I reckon he’d have enough to do.”

“Quit, boys!” Case broke in. “I know I’ve got a grouch a mile high to-night, but I’ll soon recover. Wait until I get busy with the supper we’re going to have, and you’ll see!”

Case seemed ashamed of his complaining, so the boys silently accepted his implied apology and busied themselves preparing the supper he had spoken of. In the eyes of the lads that was Case’s one fault. He was inclined to worry, and also to express his worries in the most depressing prophecies. But while they laughed at his premonition of trouble for the absent boy, they listened anxiously for the absent one’s return.

Directly Clay took a handful of silver from a pocket and laid it in a shining heap on the table.

“I guess we’d better cash up,” he said. “I got my last pay envelope from Slade & Co., to-day, and here’s the coin. We must have more than $200 by this time.”

The other boys drew banknotes and silver from their pockets, and heaped their contributions on the table.

“Now, we’ll put it with the other,” Clay said, after it had been counted over at least half a dozen times. “Just where is our bank to-night? I don’t seem to remember where we deposited last time.”

“It wasn’t in a bank,” Case broke in, forgetting his promise to get rid of his grouch, “though it should have been. The idea of leaving $200 lying loose in this old tub!”

“Now you’re losing our money—in your mind!” laughed Clay. “How many times before to-night have you lost it, Case?”

“Well, it isn’t safe, anyhow,” insisted Case, “even with Jule here to watch it; and he runs out and leaves the boat alone after dark!”

“When will this professional worrier begin work?” asked Alex with a sly grin at Clay. “He’s needed here right now. Case doesn’t seem to be able to acquire any peace of mind!”

Case blushed, as if ashamed of his outburst so soon after having resolved to mend his ways, and moved toward the back of the cabin.

“I don’t know just where Jule put the money last time we counted it,” he said, making a great show of looking for it, “but I presume it is here somewhere.”

In fumbling around next to the rear wall the boy came upon a roll of drawings, which he brought out and tossed on the table, his quest of the hidden money momentarily forgotten.