Phil Forrest was the first to spring up. He shook
Teddy by the shoulder, but, being unable to awaken his companion,
jerked the boy out of bed and let him drop on the floor.
"Get a net! What's the matter down there!" yelled Teddy.
"Hey, hey, did the mule kick me? Oh, that you Phil?
What's the row--what has happened?"
"I don't know. Come on out. Something has gone wrong.
Hear those shots?"
"Wow! Trouble! That's me! I knew I couldn't dream about angels
without something breaking loose."
Phil had thrown the door open and bounded out to the deck.
Just as he did so the pilot leaped from the front window of
the pilot house, climbed over the rail and dropped to the
deck below. The volleying, the thunderous blows
still continued.
A loud bray attracted their attention to the other side of
the boat.
"What's that?" demanded Phil, starting off in that direction.
"It's January! It's January!" howled Teddy Tucker. "I would
know that sweet voice if I heard it in the jungles of Africa.
Where is he?"
"Over here somewhere. Come on. I can't imagine what
has happened.
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