"Why?" he repeated, "because it don't belong to us."
Struck with the boy's sense of right, and ashamed of his own carelessness, the captain called out to his men,—
"Hold on, hold on! Let them have the lock."
When the boatmen knew that their fight had been prevented by James's interference they were greatly incensed, and began to call him "coward" and all sorts of derogatory names.
The boy only smiled; he knew he could vindicate his rights when the time came, and it was not long before he had an opportunity.
The boat had just reached Beaver, and James was on deck with his setting-pole against his shoulder; a sudden lurch wrenched it from him and threw it upon one of the boat-hands, who was standing close by.
"Beg pardon, Dave," said the boy quickly; "it was an accident."
The great, rough man, however, would take no apology, and rushed upon James with clenched fists. A fight seemed inevitable, but with one well-directed blow, the boy of sixteen threw down his burly antagonist, and held him fast.
"Pound him, James! Give him a good thrashing!" exclaimed the captain.
"Not when he is down and in my power," said the boy. Then, letting his conquered foe rise, he said,—