"Sculley!"
"What next, Pick?"
"You've got a new job. This chap here wants somebody to tow him down
the river."
"Well?"
"You start to do the towing, and be quick about it. Hamp, get on board
at once! Remember, Sculley, you ain't seen or heard of us, understand?"
"All right, Pick."
The gasolene launch came close once more, and the fellow called Hamp
leaped on board. He carried a rifle and was evidently a desperate
character.
"See here, I don't understand your game?" began Baxter.
"Didn't you say you wanted somebody to tow you down the river?" asked
the fellow addressed as Pick.
"I did, but--"
"Well, Cap'n Sculley of the _Firefly_ has taken the job. He'll take you
wherever you please, and at your own price. You can't ask for more than
that, can you?"
"No, but--"
"I haven't got time to talk, kid--with' that other launch coming after
us. I don't know who you are and I reckon you don't know me and my
bosom pard here. But let me tell you one thing. It won't be healthy for
you to tell anybody that me and my pard are on board here, understand?"
"You are hiding away from somebody?" asked Baxter, quickly.
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