Jerry seemed bewildered, and it was Will, after all, who grasped the true meaning of Frank’s shouts and gestures, for he hurried away to the new rope, where it was fastened ashore, while Jerry snatched up a push pole, and stood ready for work.
Thicker came the stones; and several times the fleeing boys narrowly escaped being struck; which was fortunate indeed, since more or less injury would surely have followed such a disaster.
When they finally reached the boat, the leading spirits among their unreasoning pursuers, both black and white, were not more than a hundred feet away, and still running strong.
“Push off!” gasped Frank, himself seizing hold of a pole, and starting to throw all of his strength into the labor.
Even old Luther lent a hand; and in this crisis the unwelcome passenger proved at least that he was no coward, Frank noticed, for he exposed himself as well as any of the others, until finally Frank thrust him inside the cabin.
The boat was now moving down the river, but altogether too close to the shore to wholly escape the rain of missiles that came pelting after, thrown by the angry mob, under the belief that those aboard were somehow concerned in the bringing of strike-breakers across the river to take their places.
It kept the boys busy dodging the stones, even though four-fifths of these dropped into the river. There was a constant pattering and banging as others struck the cabin and deck of the boat. One smashed through a window, and the crowd yelled hoarsely with delight at this evidence of good marksmanship.
Frank, however, believed they would soon be free from this fusillade. He saw that the levee came to an end just below, and consequently the crowd could no longer pursue the boat with profit. Besides, there were so many other scenes of excitement taking place all around, that by degrees the strikers were dropping off. The floating houseboat was really beyond their reach now; and they concluded that it would be more fun to attack a group of men who would fight back, than bombard a few boys who simply wanted to get away from the city.
So the last stone was thrown, and as the _Pot Luck_ sailed out upon the broad reach below the city, where the two mighty rivers have their confluence, Frank and his chums could get their breath again, and survey the damages.