But Carlo could only whine piteously.
“Stay where you are,” Bob yelled back, “and when I get across the river you’ll ‘see sport,’ as you said on the island, at the picnic.”
Lustily and swiftly this thirster for revenge worked his way across the stream, jeering at poor Stephen’s threats and entreaties. The raft grounded near the bank, and, the coil of rope in his hand, he jumped ashore, and shoved it off. Then, oh most humane action! he jumped on the raft again, opened the door of the cage, and cast off the cords and straps that bound Carlo’s feet, thus leaving the poor beast at liberty to struggle feebly in his narrow prison. Having made the door of the cage fast, he landed once more, this time, however, getting his feet very wet.
To set the dog free was evidently an after thought, or he would have done so before, and so have saved himself time, trouble and a wetting.
Meanwhile, poor Stephen danced excitedly about in the water, shouting and gesticulating wildly. In fact, the poor boy was at his wits’ end. He made several desperate efforts to swim after the “jolly young waterman,” but failed in each effort. He lacked George’s great self-possession, and allowed his anger to get the better of his judgment. Thus he acted, and there he remained, until his teeth chattered and his limbs turned into what is known familiarly to the boys as “goose-flesh.” Then he rushed out of the water, and pulled on his clothes promiscuously.
To the frantic boy’s horror, he next saw Bob running up the stream, along the bank whilst the raft, with the dog still on it, was drifting down the stream.
“The scoundrel!” Steve gasped. “Is he going to run away, and let my dog drift over the falls?”
Such was not the case. Bob’s left hand was toward Stephen, while in his right hand he carried and unwound as he ran, the coil of rope. No; Bob was only “paying out the cable.” But Stephen was too far off to see this.
This one thousand feet of cord, however, did not work so harmoniously as Bob had imagined it would; it became most mysteriously and provokingly entangled at every step. The sinker on the cord kept the greater part of it under water; and when Bob at last reached the end of it, and turned, he changed it from his right hand to his left hand, so that it was still out of Stephen’s sight.
Bob stood still a moment, puffing and perspiring, and the raft stopped drifting and pulled gently, very gently on the cord. Then he moved on slowly, and to Stephen on the opposite bank, there seemed to be no connection between him and the raft.