“D’yer hear what I say?” he roared again. “What d’yer mean by coming here to steal my boat?”
“’Tain’t yours,” cried Dexter.
“What? Didn’t I buy it of yer and pay for it?”
“You came and stole it while we were asleep, you thief!” cried Dexter again.
“Say I stole yer boat and I’ll drown’d yer,” cried the man, forcing his way through the reeds and osiers so as to keep up with them. “If you don’t take that back it’ll be the worse for yer. Stop! D’yer hear? Stop!”
Bob stopped again, for the man’s aspect was alarming, and every moment he seemed as if he was about to leap from the high bank.
Fortunately for all parties he did not do this, as if he had reached the edge of the boat he must have capsized it, and if he had leaped into the bottom, he must have gone right through.
Bob did not realise all this; but he felt certain that the man would jump, and, with great drops of fear upon his forehead he kept on stopping as the man threatened, and, but for Dexter’s urging, the boat would have been given up.
“I can hear yer,” the man roared, with a fierce oath. “I hear yer telling him to row. Just wait till I get hold of you, my gentleman!”
“Row, Bob, row!” panted Dexter, “as soon as we’re out in the river we shall be safe.”