No doubt,
while it may have been rather out of date in pattern, the cannon was
good enough to have done savage execution, handled by expert German or
French gunners.
But there did not seem to be any such among the rag-and-bobtail army of
the new aspirant for the presidency of Colombia. At any rate, the
missile whizzed and whined past the retreating boat, missing her by
yards.
"Bully!" shouted Andy, jumping up and cutting a few pigeon wings on the
deck to illustrate just how pleased he was. "By the time they're ready
to let her off again we'll be nearly out of range. And from the looks of
the bank I feel pretty sure they never can catch up with us, toting
their old gun along."
Three minutes later there came the third report, and they heard the ball
pass high overhead, proving that the marksmen had entirely lost all
traces of the boat and simply fired at random.
"That settles it," said Frank, decisively.
"Do you think so?" asked his chum, joyously.
"No question about it, Andy. Like the government official on the wharf
at Barranquila, they realize that the game didn't work, and if they want
to get us they'll have to lay some new plans when we come back
again. But we're not bothering our heads about that, you know."
"Never even cut a chip off our boat!" declared Andy.
"Well, I'm going back and get the rest of my nap. Wake me up at four,
remember.
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