“But do you think he will get back safe?”
“Of course he will. He won’t try to run any more.”
Dick took a long look at the constable to see that he was really out of danger, and feeling satisfied at last that there was nothing to mind, he followed Tom once more, the two managing so well that after losing sight of them altogether for some time, their inquisitive pursuer had the mortification of seeing them enter the punt and push off, leaving him to make a long and tedious circuit, crawling part of the way, and when he stood erect, wanting as he was in the boys’ experience, making very slow progress to the regular track.
As soon as the excitement was over, and the boat reached once more, Dick’s gloomy feelings came back, and but for his companion’s efforts he would have relapsed into a mournfully depressed condition, which would have done little towards making their trip agreeable.
Tom, however, worked hard, and using the pole with vigour he drove the punt along, till Dick roused up from a fit of musing on his father’s severe looks and Mr Marston’s distant manner, to find that they were close to Dave’s home.
“Why have you come here?” he cried.
“To see how he is,” replied Tom; and, thrusting down his pole, he soon had the punt ashore.
“Why, he isn’t at home!” said Dick.
His words proved correct, for the punt was missing, and unless it lay on the other side of an alder patch or was drawn out to be repaired, the master must have it far away somewhere on the mere.
It need not be supposed that the two lads were troubled with more curiosity than is the property of most boys of their age, because they landed and looked round, ending by going up to the fen-man’s hut and entering.