"Nothing to boast of," replied Blake. "Looks as if it would rain more any minute."
"Anything out there worth filming?"
"Nothing much—a lot of stuff coming down the river, but we've got enough of that," spoke Joe. "I only wish we could have filmed the burning cotton barge, but we had enough to do as it was, to get clear of it ourselves."
"I should say so," came from Blake, as he recalled the danger of the night before.
Breakfast over, preparations were made for again moving down stream. The boys got the camera ready to take any scenes that might be worth filming, and Mr. Ringold and C. C. took charge of the boat.
As the lines were being cast off, there came rowing along the stream, close in to shore, so as to keep out of the strong current, a farmer in a skiff. He seemed somewhat surprised to see our friends, but hailed them, asking:
"I say, you folks ain't seen nothin' of a spotted cow critter around here; have you?"
"A cow? No," answered Blake. "We saw one floating down in a barn a day or so ago. Was she yours?"
"No, my barn's still on land, but my spotted cow critter is missin' and I thought maybe you folks might have seen her."
