This was encouraging, but somehow Dexter did not feel so much confidence in his companion as of old.
But Bob’s rest, and the disappearance of danger had brought him back to his former state, and he was constantly making references to the departed enemy.
“I should just liked to have ketched him touching me!” he said. “I’d ha’ give his shins such a kicking as would soon have made him cry ‘Leave off.’”
Dexter sat and stared through the gloom at the young Gascon.
“I’d ha’ soon let him know what he’d get if he touched me.”
“Hi, Bob! look out!”
Bob uttered a cry of dread, and nearly jumped overboard as something still and dark suddenly loomed up above him. Then there was a bump, which nearly finished what the boy had felt disposed to do; and then they were gliding along by the side of a vessel anchored in midstream.
As they swept past the stern the boat bumped again against something black and round, which proved to be a floating tub. With this they seemed to have become entangled, for there was a rasping grating noise, then the boat’s chain began to run rapidly over the bows, the boat swung round, and their further progress was checked. A piece of the chain with the hook had been left hanging over, and when they had touched the tub buoy the hook had caught, and they were anchored some little distance astern the large vessel.
“Here’s a game!” cried Bob, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment. “Well, we can’t go on in the dark. Let’s stop here.”
“But we’ve got to find a place to sleep, Bob,” protested Dexter.