“All right, my lads,” shouted the fellow. “I know yer. You stole that boat, that’s what you’ve done!”
“Row hard, Bob!” whispered Dexter.
“It’s all very fine to say row hard. You kitch hold and help.”
Dexter readily seized the second scull, and began to pull with so much energy and effect that they had soon passed the muddy creek up which the man had gone and come, and before long he was out of sight.
“It was all your fun, Bob,” said Dexter, as they went on. “I thought you meant to sell the boat.”
“So I did,” grumbled Bob; “only you were so disagreeable about it. How are we to get on for money when mine’s all done!”
“I don’t know,” said Dexter dolefully. “Can’t we work for some?”
“Yah! How can we work? I say, though, he knew you’d stolen the boat.”
“I didn’t steal it, and it isn’t stolen,” said Dexter indignantly. “I wrote and told Sir James that we had only borrowed it, and I sent some money, and I shall send some more if we cannot find a way to get it back.”
“See if they don’t call it stealing,” said Bob grimly. “Look there at the her’ns.”