The other boats of the fleet were
steaming up in answer to the signals of distress that Cummings
had blown in his excitement.
"What is it? Are you sinking?" called a voice through a
megaphone from the deck of the "River Queen."
"No, we are all right," answered Phil, leaning out of the window.
"You'll be high and dry on the Iowa shore if you don't
watch sharp. Where are you going?"
"Don't know. Keep out of the way or we're liable to run
you down."
Phil grabbed a bell pull and gave it a violent jerk. The engines
stopped suddenly, to the Circus Boy's great delight. January had
ceased his bombardment and now stood with head thrust though one
of the broken windows, gazing in inquiringly at Phil Forrest.
"If one bell stopped the engine, another bell should be the
signal to go ahead," reasoned the lad, giving the bell pull two
quick jerks. He was right. The machinery started and he could
hear the big paddle wheel beating the river into a froth.
The lower deck was in an uproar. Men were shouting and running
about, trying to discover what animals had escaped, as the pilot
insisted that the hurricane deck was alive with them.
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