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The Rambler club in the mountains

CHAPTER XXII CHASING "LITTLE BILL"
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ben henderson lost no time in taking advantage of dave brandon's kind offer; in fact, the very next morning he appeared at the rickham house, happy and expectant.

ben proved an apt pupil, and dave enjoyed his new rôle as a professor.

one morning, just after breakfast, dick travers poked his head out-of-doors.

"may have to stick inside all day," he grumbled. "clouds are dark and the wind is pretty brisk—it's going to rain."

"well, it isn't raining now," called out dave from the dining-room. "let's ramble around for an hour or two, anyway."

"right you are, chubby," agreed bob. "i'm going to take my gun. might knock over a couple of hares."

in a few minutes, the boys were crossing the field, headed for a fringe of woods.

as they were about to enter, dick travers happened to turn his head. he stopped abruptly, and uttered an exclamation.

"what's the matter, dick?" asked bob.

"some fellows going out on our wharf," was the answer.

"i'll bet it's 'little bill' after the 'spray' again," cried tom, excitedly.

"let's watch 'em a bit," counseled bob.

"now's the time to put a stop to their funny business," said bob. "come ahead, fellows. guess mr. bill dugan won't take the boat out to-day."

"he has awful nerve," said dick, angrily.

"perhaps he won't have so much when the ramblers get through with him."

the boys, fully aroused, broke into a run, and presently recognized "little bill." but dugan and his companion, busily engaged in casting off the ropes, did not look around until the indignant boys were almost upon the wharf.

"hey there, bill dugan," yelled bob; "get away from that boat!"

"well, i declare—if that isn't 'surly joe' with him," panted dick. "crickets, but this is a surprise!"

both the trapper and "little bill" wheeled sharply around at bob's command. dugan's face flushed; he was evidently disconcerted and no doubt felt like taking to his heels, but "surly joe's" unamiable countenance glared defiance.

"don't pay no attention to 'em, bill," snarled the latter. "they hain't got no more sense than ter skeer away a hull flock of the finest ducks you ever see. jump in, an'——"

"don't do anything of the sort, dugan," commanded bob, firmly. "you have no right to touch that boat!"

"what's the reason i hain't?" cried "little bill," with a show of courage. "old barton says ter me—he says, 'bill, if ever——'"

"don't chin with 'em all day, but jump in," interrupted "surly joe," angrily. "didn't you say that you an' me could have a little sail? you ain't skeered of them young kids, i hope, bill dugan?"

"you don't know how to sail a boat, anyway," cried bob. "we won't stand any nonsense now."

"jist listen at him—wal, did i ever hear the beat of it? if that ain't impertinence fur ye," growled joe tomlin. "he's insulted, ye, bill dugan—that's what he's done. do you stand fur sich talk as that?"

"no, i don't!" yelled dugan, fiercely.

his right hand shot out; he seized bob somers' rifle, and wrested it from his grasp.

"jump in, joe," he cried. "here goes!"

he leaped aboard the "spray," and "surly joe" instantly followed. the boat had been straining and tugging, with but one rope left to hold her, and this joe tomlin instantly cast off.

the boys were entirely unprepared for such sudden action, and their indignation was thoroughly aroused as the "spray" slowly drifted away from the wharf, and "surly joe" was seen hauling up the sail.

"i'll teach yer not ter be gittin' gay with me," cried dugan. "when yer apologizes, ye gits back yer old shootin' iron, an' not before. i'll show you—an' that fat elephant, too."

"after them in the 'speedy,' fellows," cried bob.

"that's the idea!" yelled dick.

but the boys, in their excitement and hurry, proceeded to prove the truth of the old saying, "the more haste, the less speed." nothing went right. tommy clifton fell down and bumped his nose; the ropes were stubborn—one of them got wedged in a crack on the wharf, and bob, impatient at the delay, cut it loose.

"pile aboard, fellows!" he cried.

a strong wind was blowing, and the "spray," headed for promontory island, had a good start.

"crickets! we'll have to go some to catch up with 'em," cried bob. "give me a hand with the sail, dick—that's it. keep her steady, sam."

"what's the program?" asked dave, calmly.

"board the 'spray,' if necessary. when dugan and 'surly joe' find we mean business, they'll back down."

"maybe they won't, bob," put in tommy clifton, nervously.

"you might as well give it up," came floating over the air. "little bill," in the stern, was waving bob somers' rifle tauntingly.

"if you know what's best for yourself you'll come about," shouted bob.

"is that elephant holding yer back?" sneered dugan, and "surly joe's" harsh laugh reached their ears.

"jiminy, the wind's kicking up awful big waves," said tommy clifton a few minutes later. "might be better to get back."

"no siree, tommy. it's now or never. we're not so easy as all that."

"we must get that gun, even if they lead us a chase around the two islands," put in sam, emphatically.

heavy, rolling clouds shut from view the surrounding mountains; drops of rain began to fall, and every moment the "speedy" buried her nose in the white-capped waves, while flying spray soaked the occupants.

the quantity of water pouring over the gunwale assumed such proportions that dick and bob somers began bailing.

hemlock and promontory islands soon loomed up clearly, the latter grim and majestic in the gray light.

"great sport, this," cried dave. "we're gaining fast, bob. mind yourself, sam. this boat's a bit too narrow for stormy weather. there goes the 'spray' into the passageway."

as the wind blew stronger and the angry, hissing water broke against the boat with great force, tom clifton's fears increased. he kept looking at the shore, and each time the "speedy" heeled far over felt a shiver run through him.

"look out, sam," he shouted, as a particularly violent gust bore down upon them. "look out! jiminy, we'll be over in a minute."

but the "speedy" bravely righted herself, and struggled ahead.

this was repeated so many times that the boys began to think they were experiencing the worst that was in store for them, and that after all there was no real danger.

"fine sport—fine," said dave brandon, at length. "just fierce enough to be enjoyable."

"right you are," added sam, emphatically.

as the steersman was about to change his course, a sudden and unexpected lurch tore the tiller from his grasp and sent him crashing against the gunwale. the sail began to thrash and bang violently in the wind, and cries of alarm instantly arose.

"drop the sail!" yelled bob, struggling to sam's assistance.

the "speedy" careened far over; before dave brandon and dick travers could master the flapping canvas, the boom swung swiftly across. tommy clifton tried to duck, but too late. his horrified chums saw him swept backward into the choppy water.

it had happened so quickly that not a move could be made to aid him.

but tommy's yell of terror had scarcely ceased, when dick travers threw off his coat and shoes, and, without an instant's hesitation, dived overboard.

as he rose to the surface, bravely battling against wind and foam-crested waves, he clearly felt the grip of the treacherous current.

tommy clifton's head bobbed up close by, and, swimming hand over hand, dick made straight for him.

"keep up, tommy, old boy," he managed to gasp.

but the terror-stricken lad did not seem to hear. he grasped wildly at his rescuer, who, however, knew enough to keep clear.

at a favorable moment he seized tommy by the hair and by a quick move turned him on his back. so far, he had been buoyed up by the hope that the "speedy" would immediately tack to their assistance, and, hampered by his clothes, he strove merely to keep afloat.

the force of the wind and waves dashing in his face almost took his breath away; his muscles ached, but he held on to white-faced tommy clifton with a grip which could not be broken.

"why don't they come?" he murmured. then he managed to turn, and, with a great effort, glance over the crests of the gray, storm-swept waves.

"great scott!"

an icy chill swept through him. instead of the "speedy" being close at hand and coming to their assistance, the instantaneous glance showed him a boat bottom up, with several figures clinging to it.

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