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"What's it all about?" asked Miss Dixon again. "Oh, they're going to take one of our men, I believe," said Pop Snooks, the property "angel," as the ladies often called him. "Oh dear! What are they? Pirates?" gasped Miss Pennington. "No, it's Jack Jepson they're after. Some old charge, I believe." "Ha! I knew something would happen on this voyage!" exclaimed Mr. Pepper Sneed.
Sneed, who seemed to have the faculty for hitting on the most unhappy aspect of any situation. "The fire cannot possibly get beyond control before morning, even if it is not put out," the captain replied. "So there will be no need of boats in the night. Even if there were, we have powerful searchlights, and each boat carries her own storage battery lighting plant. Now, please be reasonable."
"Somebody help him out!" cried Mr. Pertell, trying to keep from laughing too hard. In fact everyone was so amused that, for the moment, no one rendered any aid to Mr. Sneed. But Flaming Arrow finally went over to him, and succeeded in righting him. "Take take 'em off!" spluttered the actor, when he could speak. "I am through with snowshoes."
"Hurry with those rails!" called Mr. Pertell to Mr. Bunn. "He can't stay in that icy water forever." Some of the men who had been working at removing the snow now came up with ropes and trace chains. Then, when the rails were spread out on the ice, near the air hole, the rescuers were able to get near enough to throw the ends of several lines to Mr. Sneed.
"I had a premonition something would happen," declared Mr. Sneed, as he was making up for his part in a play. "When I got up yesterday morning I stepped on my collar button, and that's always a sure sign something will happen." "It's sometimes a sign you'll be late for rehearsal if you don't find the collar button," laughed Paul.
Master Simon Sneed was a great man in his own estimation; and, as he had read a great many exciting novels, and had a good command of language, he talked and acted like a great man. He could hold his own in conversation with older and wiser persons than himself.
"Hold on stop break my leg! Never!" cried the grouchy actor. "Of course you don't really injure yourself!" exclaimed the manager, testily. "Oh, why did I ever come to this miserable place!" sighed Mr. Sneed. "I despise cold weather!" But there was no help for it. Soon he was on the steel runners gliding about, while Russ filmed him. Mr. Sneed was a good skater, and was not averse to "showing off."
"Waal, old man Sneed 'lows thar'll be a power o' cattle-thievin', with the road so open an' convenient. An' Jeremiah Sayres don't want ter pay no road-taxes. An' Silas Boyd 'lows he don't want ter be obligated ter work on no sech rough road ez this hyar one air obleeged ter be; an' I reckon, fust an' last, it will take a power o' elbow grease."
"'Tain't early, though," replied the sullen bass voice of Silas Boyd from the darkness; it was lowered, that the others might not hear. "That thar old perverted Philistine of a Persimmon Sneed kep' us danderin' roun' hyar till mighty nigh eight o'clock, I'll bet, a-persistin' an' a-persistin' he knowed the road, when he war plumb lost time we got on that cowpath.
"To think of steaming along these quiet and mysterious streams, under the palms," exclaimed Alice. "Oh, I'm so glad I came." "Huh! Yes. Suppose we get lost, as those two girls are?" demanded Mr. Sneed, who was the only one, you may be sure, who would make such a disquieting suggestion. "Well, if we're all lost together it won't be so bad," declared Alice. "But I should hate to be lost all alone."
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