Tod realised that nothing incensed their rough natures like being made the subject of a practical joke and this, though unpremeditatedly, he and Dotty had done. He thought best to drop his indignant air and try to propitiate them.
"Oh, come now," he said; "honest Injun, as man to man, I didn't mean to fool you. We dropped the doll in the water and I yelled for help. Now, I'll own up that when you fellows seemed to think it was a live baby, we did kind of help along a little but we didn't mean any harm. S'pose I give you a dollar to forget it."
Tod spoke in a frank and manly way, and his good-natured face ought to have evoked a pleasant response. And it did from most of the men, but the fierce black-eyed one, who seemed to be the leader, was possessed of a sense of greed, and his one idea regarding the "stuck-up summer people" was to extract money from them whenever possible.
"A dollar," he said, with an unpleasant sneer; "not enough, young sir! Show us ten dollars, and we'll try to forget the insult you offered us."
"I didn't offer you an insult, and I haven't ten dollars with me, and I wouldn't pay it to you if I had!"
Tod was angry now, and his eyes blazed at the rude injustice of the demand.
But the fierce-browed man was not abashed. "You gimme ten dollars or I'll make trouble for you! If you haven't got it, you can get it. Gimme your word of honour—you look like a gentleman—to bring me that ten, and I'll promise to make no trouble."
Tod hesitated. Had he been alone, he would have refused them at once, but he felt that he had the responsibility of Dotty's welfare, and he paused to reflect. The men were very rude and uncontrolled, and Tod didn't know what further menace they might offer.
As he hesitated, the big man spoke more threateningly. "Be quick, young man; give us your word, or we'll put you under lock and key for awhile to think it over."
This speech was accompanied by growls of assent from other members of the group, and one or two stepped forward as if to carry out the suggestion.