"Caught any more?" said the man.
"Only one," replied Bob.
"Ah! I could show you a place where you could pull 'em up like
anything. I say, though, the boat ain't worth a pound."
"Oh yes, she is," said Bob.
"Not a pound and the boat too."
"Yes, she is," said Bob, watching Dexter the while out of the corner of
one eye.
"I wouldn't give a pound for her, only there's a man I know wants just
such a boat."
Dexter sat up, looking very determined, and ready to speak when he
thought that the proper time had come, and Bob kept on watching him.
"Look here!" said the man, "as you two's come out fishing, I'll give you
fifteen shillings and my boat, and that's more than yours is worth."
"No, you won't," said Bob.
"Well, sixteen, then. Come, that's a shilling too much."
Bob shook his head, hooked, and took a good-sized smelt off his hook.
"It's more than I care to give," said the man, who grew warm as Bob
seemed cold. "There, I'll go another shilling--seventeen."
Bob still shook his head, and Dexter sat ready to burst out into an
explosion of anger and threat if his companion sold the boat.
"Nineteen, then," said the man. "Nineteen, and my old un as rides the
water like a duck. You won't?"
"No," said Bob.
"Well, then," cried the man, "I'm off."
"All right," said Bob coolly.
"There, I'll give you the twenty shillings, but you'll have to give me
sixpence back. Look here! I've got the money."
He showed and rattled the pound's worth of silver he had.
"Come on. You get into my boat, and I'll get into yours."
"No, yer won't," said Bob. "I won't sell it."
"What!" cried the man angrily, and he raised one of his oars from the
water.
"I won't sell," cried Bob, seizing the oars as he dropped his rod into
the boat.
"You mean to tell me that you're going to make a fool of me like that!"
He began to pull the little tub in which he sat toward the gig, but Bob
was too quick for him. The gig glided through the water at double the
rate possible to the old craft, and though it was boy against man, the
former could easily hold his own.
Fortunately they were not moored to the bank or the event might have
been different, for the man had raised his oar as if with the intention
of striking the boat in which the boys were seated.
"Here, you, stop!" he shouted.
Bob replied in dumb show with his sculls, dipping them as fast as he
could, and looking very pale the while, till they were well out of
reach, when he rested for a moment, and yelled back in defiant tones the
one word--
"Yah!"
"All right, my lads," shouted the fellow. "I know yer. You stole that
boat, that's what you've done!"
"Row hard, Bob!" whispered Dexter.
"It's all very fine to say row hard. You kitch hold and help."
Dexter readily seized the second scull, and began to pull with so much
energy and effect that they had soon passed the muddy creek up which the
man had gone and come, and before long he was out of sight.
"It was all your fun, Bob," said Dexter, as they went on. "I thought
you meant to sell the boat."
"So I did," grumbled Bob; "only you were so disagreeable about it. How
are we to get on for money when mine's all done!"
"I don't know," said Dexter dolefully. "Can't we work for some?"
"Yah! How can we work? I say, though, he knew you'd stolen the boat."
"I didn't steal it, and it isn't stolen," said Dexter indignantly. "I
wrote and told Sir James that we had only borrowed it, and I sent some
money, and I shall send some more if we cannot find a way to get it
back."
"See if they don't call it stealing," said Bob grimly. "Look there at
the her'ns."
He nodded toward where a couple of the tall birds were standing
heel-deep in the shallow water, intent upon their fishing, and so well
accustomed to being preserved that they did not attempt to rise from
their places.
Dexter was so much interested in the birds that he forgot all about
their late adventure.
Then they rowed on for about a couple of hours, and their next
proceeding was to look out for a suitable spot for their meal.
There were no high cliff-like banks now, but here and there, alternating
with meadows, patches of woodland came down to the water's edge, and at
one of these they stopped, fastened the boat to a tree where it was
quite out of sight; and now for the first time they began to see boats
passing along.
So far the little tub in which the would-be purchaser of their gig was
seated was the only one they had seen on the water, but they were
approaching a village now, and in low places they had seen high posts a
short distance from the water's edge, on which were festooned long nets
such as were used for the salmon at the time they run.
As soon as they had landed, a fire was lit, the fish cleaned, and the
remainder of the bread and butter left from the last meal brought
ashore. After which, as an experiment, it was decided to roast the
smelts before the blaze, a task they achieved with more or less success.
As each fish was deemed sufficiently cooked it was eaten at once--a
piece of bread forming the plate--and, with the exception of wanting
salt, declared to be delicious.
"Ever so much better than chub, Bob," said Dexter, to which for a wonder
that young gentleman agreed.
Evening soon came on, and as it was considered doubtful whether they
could find as satisfactory a place for their night's rest as that where
they were, it was decided to stop, and go on at sunrise next morning.
"We shall get to the sea to-morrow," said Bob, as he began to yawn.
"I'm jolly glad of it, for I'm tired of the river, and I want to catch
cod-fish and soles, and something big. Whatcher yawning for?"
"I'm tired and sleepy," said Dexter, as he sat upon the roots of an old
tree, three or four yards from the water's edge.
"Yah! you're always sleepy," said Bob.
"But I had to keep watch while you slept."
"So you will have to again."
"But that isn't fair," said Dexter, in ill-used tones. "It's your turn
to watch now."
"Well, I'll watch half the night, if you watch the other," said Bob.
"That's fair, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then I shall lie down now, and you can call me when it's twelve
o'clock."
"But I shan't know when it is," protested Dexter.
"Well, I ain't particular," said Bob, stretching himself beneath the
tree. "Guess what you think's fair half, and I'll get up then."
"But will you get up!" said Dexter.
"Of course I will, if you call loud enough. There, don't bother, I'm
ever so tired with rowing, and I shall go to sleep at once."
Bob kept his word as soon as darkness had set in, and Dexter sat
listening to the lapping of the water, and wondered whether, if they
camped out like this in a foreign land, crocodiles would come out of the
rivers and attack them.
He sat down, for he soon grew tired of standing and walking about, and
listened to Bob's heavy breathing, for the boy had gone off at once.
It was very dark under the trees, and he could only see the glint of a
star from time to time. It felt cold too, but as he drew himself close
together with his chin down upon his knees he soon forgot that, and
began thinking about the two owls he had heard the past night. Then he
thought about the long-legged herons he had seen fishing in the water;
then about their own fishing, and what capital fish the smelts were.
From that he began to think about hunting out the cray-fish from the
banks, and how one of the little things had nipped his fingers quite
sharply.
Next he began to wonder what Helen Grayson thought about him, and what
the doctor had said, and whether he should ever see them again, and
whether he should like Bob any better after a time, when camping out
with him, and how long it would be before they reached one of the
beautiful hot countries, where you could gather cocoa-nuts off the trees
and watch the lovely birds as they flitted round.
And then he thought about how long it would be before he might venture
to call Bob.
And then he began thinking about nothing at all.
When he opened his eyes next it was morning, with the sun shining
brightly, and the birds singing, and Bob Dimsted had just kicked him in
the side.
"Here, I say, wake up," he cried. "Why, you've been to sleep."
"Have I!" said Dexter sheepishly, as he stared helplessly at his
companion.
"Have yer? Yes; of course yer have," cried Bob angrily. "Ain't to be
trusted for a moment. You're always a-going to sleep. Whatcher been
and done with that there boat!"