"Time!" cried the umpire, and the game came to a stop.
"Say, that is somebody screaming!" exclaimed Stanley. "Sounds like a girl's voice."
"It's from that excursion boat!" said another student. And as he spoke he pointed to a small river steamer, gaily decorated with flags and bunting, that had appeared around a bend of the stream.
"Why, that's the Thistle!" ejaculated Dick.
"The Thistle?" repeated Sam. "Oh, Dick, that's the steamer the girls from Hope were going to use for their picnic up the river!"
"I know it."
"Do you suppose Grace and Nellie and Dora are on board?"
"More than likely."
"What's the trouble?"
"They are yelling like Indians!" cried the center fielder. "Come on, something is wrong, sure!"
On the instant the game of baseball was forgotten, and like a drove of wild horses the college boys raced down to the edge of the river, which at this point was over a quarter of a mile wide but quite shallow. As they did this they heard the steam whistle of the Thistle sound out loud and long.
