"That was a first-rate kick!" was Dick's admiring comment, when they at length stopped where a bend of the river and a clump of weeping-willows suggested safety.
The terrible geese were now only visible a long way behind over the water, with their necks still upstretched, and now and then screaming a faint "ya-hi!" as a bird flew across, or some equally unimportant matter arrested their attention.
Bill felt rather foolish. "Guess I shan't come this way again in a hurry," observed he.
Dick remarked that he didn't know geese were dangerous.
"Oh! Ain't they, though," said Bill, changing his opinions to suit his case. "You've only seen 'em hangin' up by the necks, I guess. Never offered to touch me before, though," added he, with a touch of bravado. "Seems like they know when you've been meddling with their nests."
"Have you got it?" asked Dick eagerly, referring to the promised egg.
Bill nodded. "One a-piece," said he, clapping a hand to each jacket-tail. Then suddenly remembering his roll down the bank, his face fell,—"I'm licked!" exclaimed he with a blank look. "If they ain't all smashed! Now, there's a go!"
What a mess it was; and what a face Bill made as he drew his hands out, yellow and sticky, and stood staring helplessly at Dick!
"There's a go!" repeated Dick. "My word and honour!"
"After all that trouble!" added Bill, thinking of the sitting goose and Farmer Bluff's dog Blazer, and all the other obstacles he had surmounted. "It's sixpence all the same though," added he.