se up and lay us aboard? He's got all the
weapons there is. Is he scart?"

And then it come to me--the reason why. HE DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO STOP HER.
He could steer first rate, being used to sailboats, but an electric auto
launch was a new ideal for him, and he didn't understand her works. And
he dastn't run her aground at the speed she was making; 'twould have
finished her and, more'n likely, him, too.

I don't s'pose there ever was another mess just like it afore or sence.
Here was us, stranded with a horse we couldn't make go, being chased by
a feller who was run away with in a boat he couldn't stop!

Just as I'd about give up hope, I heard somebody calling from the beach
behind us. I turned, and there was Becky Huckleberries, Lonesome's
daughter. She had the dead decoys by the legs in one hand.

"Hi!" says she.

"Hi!" says I. "How do you get this giraffe of yours under way?"

She held up the decoys.

"Who kill-a dem ducks?" says she.

I p'inted to the reverend. "He did," says I. And then I cal'late I must
have had one of them things they call an inspiration. "And he's willing
to pay for 'em," I says.

"Pay thirty-five dolla?" says she.

"You bet!" says I.

But I'd forgot Clarissa. She rose up in that waterlogged cart like a
Statue of Liberty. "Never!" says she. "We will never submit to such
extortion. We'll drown first!"

Becky heard her. She didn't look disapp'inted nor nothing. Just turned
and begun to walk up the beach. "ALL right," says she; "GOO'-by."

The Todds stood it for a jiffy. Then James give in. "I'll pay it!" he
hollers. "I'll pay it!"

Even then Becky didn't smile. She just come about again and walked back
to the shore. Then she took up that tin pan and one of the potaters we'd
jounced out of the cart.

"Hi, Rosa!" she hollers. That mare turned her head and looked. And, for
the first time sence she hove anchor on that flat, the critter unfurled
her ears and histed 'em to the masthead.

"Hi, Rosa!" says Becky again, and begun to pound the pan with the
potater. And I give you my word that that mare started up, turned the
wagon around nice as could be, and begun to swim ashore. When we got
where the critter's legs touched bottom, Becky remarks: "Whoa!"

"Here!" I yells, "what did you do that for?"

"Pay thirty-five dolla NOW," says she. She was bus'ness, that girl.

Todd got his wallet from under hatches and counted out the thirty-five,
keeping one eye on Lonesome, who was swooping u