“Now, Bob, you row softly down and I’ll use the boat-hook,” whispered Dexter, as he stood up in the stern, while Bob sat down, seized the oars, and laid them in the rowlocks, ready to make the first stroke, when high above them on the bank they heard a quick, rushing noise, and directly after, to their horror, there stood, apparently too much dumbfounded to speak, the man they had seen a few minutes before going into the reed hut.
Chapter Thirty Seven.
Second-Hand Stealing.
“Here, you, sir! stop!” he roared.
“Pull away, Bob!” whispered Dexter, for Bob had paused, half-paralysed by the nearness of the danger. But he obeyed the second command, and tugged at the oars.
“D’yer hear!” roared the man, with a furious string of oaths. “Hold hard or I’ll—”
He did not say what, but made a gesture as if striking with a great force.
“Don’t speak, Bob: pull hard,” whispered Dexter, bending forward in the boat so as to reach the rower, and encourage him to make fresh efforts, while, for his part, he kept his eyes upon the man.