The next step was to sink the line. Hal tied upon the free end two heavy coupling links which had been stored in under the bows. Ned sculled ahead, slightly up stream, to make allowance for the sluggish current, until the line, with its dangling hooks and liver, was fairly taut.
“There she goes!” remarked Hal; with a clink the coupling links disappeared beneath the surface, and the line followed.
They were on their way to the foot of the raft, to set out their second line, when a piercing howl from the main shore startled them. It was Bob, lonesome, disgusted and impatient, demanding that they return to land and to him. Where he had been, they did not know. But now he was sitting at the water’s brink, directly opposite them, and accusing them of deserting him.
“Bob, be quiet!” ordered Ned.
However, Bob, hearing the voice, and judging that his howling was to be in vain, decided that since they would not come to him he would go to them; whereupon with a yelp of defiance he plunged into the slough, and yapping at intervals laid a course for the boat.
“Go back, Bob! Go back, sir!” cried Ned.
“Let him come, Ned,” pleaded Hal. “He won’t do any harm.”
“He’ll only eat the liver, if he has half a chance, and hang himself on a hook!” exclaimed Ned. “Help me make him go back.”
Thus appealed to, Hal, understanding the situation, took sides with Ned against Bob, and the two boys yelled commands, and splashed with the oars.
Bob, wavering in the face of such a hostile reception, hesitated, swam in a circle, and finally sought the shore again. Here he contented himself with parading up and down, and venting his feelings by short, indignant barks.