LITMIR.BIZ

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to make a still greater exertion.

      After that the victory was as good as won.

      Buster marched out on the bank the line over his shoulder; and as soon as they could do so without wetting themselves Josh and Herb seized hold of the stout cord.

      “Wow! it sure is a whale!” exclaimed George, from his position of vantage on board his boat, as something that flapped, and made a tremendous splutter, was dragged out of the river, and up on the shore.

      It was a tremendous yellow catfish, one of that species that help to make the Mississippi famous among market fishermen.

      “Whee! must weigh about as much as Buster does, and that’s a fact!” remarked Josh, as he surveyed the monster.

      It was not a lovely spectacle, with its slippery skin, and great gaping mouth resembling that of a big bulldog.

      “What whiskers it’s got, the omadhaun!” Jimmie called out, “and say the horn on his back, wud yees? Whoo! but ’tis a brave lad ye arre, Buster, to holdt sich a monster stiddy, and walk ashore wid the same. I take off me hat till yees, so I do, me laddybuck!”

      Buster was panting like anything, and could hardly get his breath; but Jack believed he had never seen him look quite so happy, as when he stood over that giant Mississippi cat, and had his picture snapped off by George, who got his new kodak out especially to preserve the incident among the annals of the club.

      “Get some dry clothes on you in a hurry, Buster,” suggested Jack, after they had all congratulated the hero of the occasion on his dogged pluck, “it’s all very well holding on like that, but you ought to know when it’s time to let go, too. I thought that time had come when it pulled you under. You had the cord wrapped around both hands, Buster, a very foolish thing to do, I think. If you hadn’t been able to get your footing again, and had no friends near by to lend a hand, it was apt to go hard with you. And let me tell you there have been more fishermen than a few drowned by just such a foolish trick as that. Hold on as long as you want, but never put yourself in a position where you can’t let go.”

      Buster smilingly agreed that this was good advice, and promised to remember. He was feeling so remarkably happy over his great luck that he could not have taken offense at anything, and would have made the rashest sort of promises.

      And while he rooted out his clothes bag, so as to get some dry togs, Jack and Andy proceeded to cut up the big fish; because they knew that, horrible looking though the creature might be to a sportsman, its flesh is highly esteemed as an article of food along the length of the whole river.

      It was no easy task they had set themselves; and more than once they wished the slippery catfish had broken loose, and gone off with Buster’s hook dangling from its jaw like cheap jewelry, with which to dazzle its fellows. But in the end they managed to secure all the meat they wanted, and tossed the balance into the river to feed its kind.

      “Now, let’s be getting off!” called out Jack, after he had washed up, and in some measure removed the fishy smell from his hands.

      Since the other boys had taken everything aboard, there was really nothing to detain them; and presently the merry reports from the various engines told that the three motorboats had again resumed their journey down the Mississippi in the direction of Bedloe’s Island.

      That was an afternoon not soon to be forgotten by any of them, for the air was just warm enough to make them delight in lying around, and taking a sun bath. No doubt George was having the time of his life with Buster, who must be so chock full of his recent triumph that every little while he would burst out with a new string of questions concerning his battle, and wishing to know what it looked like from every angle ashore.

      But the time passed, and as George’s engine gave him no new trouble, the little flotilla made splendid progress while the hours crept on.

      At just three-forty-seven Jack gave a blast from his old conch shell horn which he had brought up from Florida with him – in fact, every boat was provided with a similar means for exchanging signals, and the boys had arranged a regular code, so that when separated by a mile or so they could talk with each other after some sort of fashion.

      This single blast just now announced that Jack believed he had sighted the island that was to be their destination, away down the river. Judging from their speed, aided by the swift current, they ought to make it inside of another half hour. This would give them plenty of time to hunt a good landing place, where they could put up their tent, and make things at least half way comfortable before night set in.

      Although the boys could sleep aboard, and very comfortable too, they preferred being ashore whenever it was possible, all save George, who could seldom be coaxed to desert his beloved Wireless craft, even for a brief time. He acted as though he dreaded lest that engine think up some new trick if he left it alone; eternal watchfulness was the price of victory with George; and his chums often declared that when he was on a cruise George hardly knew what sort of country he passed through, for keeping his nose down so persistently over that motor of his.

      Jack’s prediction came true, and when a quarter after four came around, they were running along the shore of a wooded island which he announced was the object of their search.

      “Where are we going to land, Jack?” called out Buster, for the three boats were now very close together, and the crews had been exchanging comments on the sombre appearance of the lonely island for some time past.

      “I don’t know,” came the answer, “because I’ve never been here before. We’d better just float along down close to the shore, and keep an eye out for a suitable landing place. If we don’t find one on this side, by the time we get to the foot of the island, why, what’s to hinder our working along up the other shore, and looking for it there?”

      “That’s so, Jack!” admitted Buster, who was in one of his finest humors; though for that matter they seldom knew the fat boy to be anything but amiable and good-natured, as most of his kind are.

      They must have passed almost to the very tail end of the long island when Josh let out a whoop, and called the attention of his comrades to what seemed to be a little bay that formed a tiny cove, with a sandy beach beyond.

      “Just the ticket!” agreed Jack, “looks like it had been scooped out for a landing place.”

      “Bet you them fishermen come right in; and we’ll be apt to find some of their huts around back there,” suggested George, who had possibly heard more stories about mysterious Bedloe’s Island than any of the others, for he had been making poor Buster’s flesh run cold during the afternoon with accounts of strange things people said had occurred to make the place shunned.

      “Then there must be good fishing around here,” remarked Buster, with the air of one who ought to be consulted whenever such sport were mentioned, because he had surely won his spurs that day, if any one ever did.

      “Listen to him talk,” broke out Josh. “Now he’s got the fishing bee on his brain and he’ll just as like as not be at it morning, noon and night, till we get sick of the smell of fish. One good thing about it that I can see is, after he’s been living on fish food for a whole week Buster will have brains enough to last him all summer, because they say it makes ’em, you know. Sometimes I think he’s a little short in his supply, especially when he wraps a fish line around both hands, when he’s got a young whale at the other end.”

      They had no difficulty in passing into the little “bight,” as Jack called the miniature cove, for the water was deep enough for even the Wireless; although Jack said they would have to be sure and constantly keep tabs on whether the river was rising or falling each day and night, since it would be mighty unpleasant to awaken some fine morning to discover that their motor boats were high and dry; as the water had gone down a foot while they slept.

      They secured the craft ashore to trees that chanced to be growing close by; for floods did not often come to this upper part of the great river as they did below the confluence with the Ohio and the Missouri.

      Then some of the things were taken to land; and the six boys were soon working like so many beaver, fixing camp.

      The tent had to be erected;

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