The barking of a dog stopped him just as he crossed the road. The suddenness of the barking made it seem as though the dog were at his heels, but he realized, as he collected himself, that the animal was a considerable distance away. Probably it was at the farm where the horseman had recruited a guard the night before, Tom decided. He hurried through the bushes and narrowly escaped tumbling over the edge of the embankment. He went down again, pulling the rail after him and letting it slip to the bottom.
"Now I'll move you," he said to the flatboat. First he rolled stones away, clearing the path to the water; next he went behind the boat, shoved the rail under and heaved upward. The rail curved under the strain, then the boat slid forward, grinding on the sand. One foot nearer the water. Tom took off his coat, threw it aboard, and worked the boat forward another foot. At last the forward end was in the river, with the water lapping against it. He stopped for breath.
Once again he heard the barking of a dog, this time nearer. Then again, still nearer. Presently he heard a man shouting, and another man answer him. They were on the road above him, and the dog was yipping with excitement.
Tom drew back to the embankment, every nerve throbbing. So they were chasing him with dogs!
Then a man's voice: "Don't see nothing here. That good-for-nothing cur—bringing us out in the middle of the night to chase squirrels. Come here, Stub!" Tom heard the yelp of the dog as the man kicked it. "Teach ye to git us up in the middle of the night fer nothing." Again the dog yelped.
"Ain't this about where Saunders' old boat is?" asked the other man.
"Yeh, I reckon so. There you can see it—right down there."
"Ain't it nearer the water? Say, you don't s'pose…?"
"Naw, that's because the water's high—mighty near as high as it was three years ago. Get out of here, you mangy cur!" Another yelp. "He couldn't get across in that sieve. Couldn't get it into the water, for one thing. Come on, let's go back. I tell ye that Yank ain't…." The rest of his words were lost as they left the embankment and went back to the road.
Tom, breathing more easily, waited for five minutes, then picked up his rail and shoved it under the boat. "If you had as much sense as your dog, mister, you'd be all right." That was his parting shot at the two men as he gave another heave at the rail. Water was pouring into the boat, so he stuffed his coat into the hole. That would keep the boat from filling so rapidly, at least.