They've got a good levee there, and aren't so badly off as we are."
"Then we'll go to Bellmead," decided Mr. Ringold.
The motor boat was turned out from the submerged streets, and into the open river again. It was still raining—quite hard now—and to try for pictures was out of the question, as the sky was dark and lowering.
Keeping out of the middle of the Mississippi, and along one edge, proceeding over what, when the stream went down, would be ruined farming fields, the motor boat went on her way.
"That must be Bellmead," announced Joe, as they made a turn into a "cut-off," or place where the river had made a new channel for itself. He pointed to a place below them, as they could see, more favorably situated than most along the Mississippi. It was protected by a high levee, or bank of earth and stone, and against this the waters were beating.
"We'll land here, and spend the night," decided Mr. Ringold. "No use going on in the darkness, and we may get some news of our friends here."
But they were disappointed in this last. No trace of the missing moving picture players could be had.
