"We're off!" they shouted, in great glee.

"Goodbye, old mud bank!" cried Gusty, waving his hand in mock adieu
to the unlucky spot where so much precious time had been wasted. "See
you later!"

"Not much we will!" echoed Joe Clausin. "I've got that spot marked with a
red cross in my mind, and if this boat ever gets close to it again,
you'll hear this chicken cackle right smart. It's been photographed on my
brain so that I'll see it lots of times when I wake up in the night."

"How about the other boat?" asked Paul, who was stooping down to fix
something connected with the motor at the time, and could not stop to
look for himself, although he could hear the throbbing of the
_Speedwell's_ machinery.

"Oh! she slid off easier than we did, I reckon," remarked Old Dan Tucker,
now snuggled down comfortably, and apparently in a mood to take things
easy, since it would be a long time between "eats."

"Tell them to go slow, all the same, Jud," Paul remarked.

"You don't seem to trust this creek as much as you might, Paul?"
chuckled Gusty, who was handling the wheel, during the minute that
Paul was busy.

"Well, after that experience I confess that I'm a little suspicious of
all kinds of mud banks. They're the easiest things to strike up an
acquaintance with, and a little the hardest to say goodbye to, of