Then, his hands in his pockets, he sauntered out of the
pilot-house to the deck.
"Now if you want to picnic," he told the astonished and frightened
excursionists, "go to it!"
With entire indifference to the water, he vaulted over the low rail
and splashed away. The rivermen and the engineer who had
accompanied him lingered only long enough to start up the band.
"Now you're safe as a cow tied to a brick wall," said the Rough Red,
whose appearance alone had gone far toward overawing the passengers.
"Be joyful. Start up the music. Start her up, I tell you!"
The band hastily began to squawk, very much out of time, and
somewhat out of tune.
"That's right," grinned the Rough Red savagely, "keep her up. If
you quit before I get back to work, I'll come back and take you
apart."
They waded through the shallow water in the cornfield. After them
wafted the rather disorganised strains of WHOA, EMMA. Captain
Simpson was indulging in what resembled heat apoplexy. After a time
the LUCY BELLE'S crew recovered their scattered wits sufficiently to
transport the passengers in small boats to a point near the county
road, whence all trudged to town. The LUCY BELLE grew in the
cornfield until several weeks later, when time was found to pull her
off on rollers.
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