"One good thing is that each minute takes us further up the river, and
every foot counts in this game of runaway. Already we're past where the
gun stands; and those fellows are working like fun to get her turned
around, so as to point after us. While they load we're doing more
stunts. Yes, and Frank, we're leaving 'em in the lurch, I do believe."

"Sure thing," returned Frank, composedly, "only both of us want to duck
when it looks time for the blamed old gun to bang again. They mean
business from the word go, now, and will shoot to hit! By some accident
it might run afoul of the boat, and splinters fly. There, get ready to
drop, Andy! It's coming!"

It certainly was, for immediately another flash sprang up, accompanied
by the same deep bellow, as the fieldpiece was discharged. No doubt,
while it may have been rather out of date in pattern, the cannon was
good enough to have done savage execution, handled by expert German or
French gunners.

But there did not seem to be any such among the rag-and-bobtail army of
the new aspirant for the presidency of Colombia. At any rate, the
missile whizzed and whined past the retreating boat, missing her by
yards.

"Bully!" shouted Andy, jumping up and cutting a few pigeon wings on the
deck to illustrate just how pleased he was. "By the time they're ready
to let her off again we'll be nearly out of range. And from the looks of
the bank I feel pretty sure they never can catch up with us, toting
their old gun along."

Three minutes later there came the third report, and they heard the ball