“Quick, I tell you!” cried the man, wrenching at Allan’s jacket until it had been removed. “Now the sweater and the trousers. If I have to speak again, I will speak with these,” and the man shook his thin hands in Allan’s face.
It was an extraordinary sight that McConnell saw,—the boy and the man exchanging clothes there in the boat; for Allan mechanically lifted the clothes the man threw from him and drew them on. On so cool a morning there was no room for debate. Excited as he was, Allan could not but foresee, with the boat adrift, that some action would soon become necessary, and the necessity for action would preclude dressing in a blanket.
“Good!” grunted the man, then he gave a start at the sound of a shout. It was Owen calling through the fog. “I see,” he said, “one of you was ashore.”
Allan nodded. He guessed by the sound of Owen’s voice that the tide had carried them some distance, but it was impossible now to tell from which direction the voice came.
“Quick!” said the husky voice of the man, “you can join the other one. I want this boat.”
“How?” faltered Allan, whose horror had been succeeded by a growing anger.
“The skiff,” said the man. “There it is. If you waste a minute I’ll pitch you both overboard!” As he said this, he made a stroke with the oar and soon brought the Arabella close to the skiff. Then he dropped the oar, clambered to the stern, McConnell making way for him, and reached for the boat with his hand. “Jump in!” he cried.
Allan had watched every movement with lips drawn, his heart beating high. To give up the Arabella, their cameras, and outfit without a struggle was more than he could bear. To see the man drop the oar had been a great surprise. It gave him a moment of hope, and when the man reached for the boat he saw his chance, and springing with all his force he pushed the convict over the stern into the river.
“McConnell—the sail!” he yelled, and grasping the oar gave a couple of quick splashes in the water that put the Arabella out of the man’s reach when he had risen to the surface, spluttering and cursing.
McConnell had started forward to the lifts. Allan followed and they gave several quick hauls together, enough to lift the gaff five or six feet. The sail indicated that there was almost no wind.