“It’s no use, Joe,” said Arthur. “They’re too far off, and there’s Matt Coyle standing on the bank.”
“But for Joe’s sake we will see what we can do,” exclaimed Roy.
As he spoke, he opened the forward locker and took from it a stout paper bag. When he first put it there, Arthur and Joe supposed that it contained lemons; but when Roy opened it, they saw that it was filled with potatoes.
“They helped us out of a scrape once, and why shouldn’t they do so again?” said Roy. “My plan is to pull into shore, drive Matt and his boys into the bushes, clap onto the canoe with the boat-hook and tow her out into the pond.”
Arthur declared that that was the way to do it, but subsequent events proved that it wasn’t. They laid hold of their oars again, but before the skiff had gone far toward the shore, Joe Wayring, who had by this time recovered his power of speech and motion, announced that Roy’s plan wouldn’t work at all, and that it was useless to make any effort to sink or capture the canoe. And the rowers found it so when they faced about and looked toward the shore.
The squatter and his boys had dragged the canoe from the water, and were now carrying her back into the bushes where they knew the boys would not dare go after it.
Matt had not yet forgotten the tactics they used when he and his boys tried to club them out of their boat the year before. He was very much afraid of Roy, and when the latter ceased rowing and got upon his feet to see what had been done with the canoe, Matt and his allies ran into the woods like so many frightened turkeys.
“I’m onto your little game,” said the squatter in a triumphant tone, as he looked out from behind the tree that sheltered him. “You don’t fire no more taters at me if I know it. Your boat is here, an’ if you want it wusser’n we do, come an’ get it. ’Tain’t much account nohow.”
“I’m going to bust it into a million pieces to pay you fur that there whack you gin me with pap’s paddle a while ago,” shouted the invisible Jake, who would not show so much as the top of his cap to the boys in the skiff. “I’ve stood jest about all the poundin’ I’m goin’ to.”
“What did you do to him, Joe?” inquired Arthur, as he and Roy turned the skiff around and pulled back toward their anchorage.