"I know it, Mandy!" I heard Ezekiel Booth answer. "Dunno how he did it, though. Stop, Roger, it's best now; jest you mark my word!"
I heard no more. Jumping the side fence, I ran through a bit of orchard and across a stony lot until I reached the Pass River.
At this point this body of water was several hundred feet wide. The bank sloped directly to the water's edge. Near at hand were several private boat-houses, one belonging to Mr. Aaron Woodward, he having built it to please Duncan.
At the end of the boat-house pier lay a skiff, the oars resting upon the seats. I knew it was wrong to make use of the craft, but "necessity knows no law," and my need was great.
Running down to the end of the pier, I dropped into the boat and shoved off. As I did so, Duncan Woodward, accompanied by Pultzer, came out of the boat-house.
"Hi, there, what are you doing in my boat?" he sang out. "What, Roger Strong!" he continued as he came nearer.
"You must lend me the boat, Duncan," I returned. "I've got to cross the river in a hurry."
"Not much! I thought you were in jail."
"Not just now," I replied. "You can get your boat on the other side."
"Hold up! You shan't have her. Come back!"