The man who had been called Jim uttered an exclamation of impatience and opened his traveling bag, while his companion struck another match. By the aid of the light it threw out Jake caught a glimpse of the contents of the valise. It was a very brief one, but the sight on which his gaze rested during the instant that the match blazed up and then went out almost took his breath away. The little bag was filled to the very top with glittering silver pieces. Never but once in his life before had Jake Coyle seen so much money, and that was in the front window of a New London broker’s office.
Jim caught up several of the coins, and as the light emitted by the match died away just then he counted out Jake’s five dollars in the dark. But the boy knew they were all there, for he felt them as they were dropped into his eager palm. He shut his fingers tightly upon them, and instead of putting them into his pocket he thrust them into the mouth of the sack that contained the bacon and potatoes he had stolen in the cellar.
“They might slip outen my pocket if we should happen to get capsized, but they’ll be safe there,” chuckled Jake. “T’other side of the lake is a mighty jubus place to land a canoe on a dark night like this one is, ’cause there’s so many snags there to pester a feller.”
“Now, then, what’s keeping you?” demanded Jim, impatiently. “We’ve wasted too much time already.”
“Well, why don’t you pile in?” asked Jake, in reply. “I’ll shove the canoe out till she floats, an’ then I’ll step in myself. I ain’t afeared of gettin’ my stockin’s wet.”
In accordance with these instructions Jim took possession of the bow, his companion seated himself in the stern, and Jake shoved me from the shore. When the water was a little more than knee-deep, he stepped aboard and took up his paddle. His added weight made me settle down until the water came within two or three inches of the top of my gunwale, and I expected that Jake would stop and ask his passengers how they “liked the look of things” now that they were afloat; but he did nothing of the kind, for it was not on his programme to take them back to shore after he had got fairly started with them. He dipped his paddle into the water and with a few quick, strong strokes left the trees on the bank out of sight. If I could have spoken to them I could have quieted the fears of Jake’s timid passengers in very few words. I did not believe that the three of them weighed much more than half my floating capacity, which was eight hundred pounds.
The lake wasn’t an inch over five hundred yards wide at this point, and neither was the water more than fifteen or twenty feet deep. Jake was not more than ten minutes in coming within sight of the opposite shore, and then he began twisting about, looking first one side of his bow passenger and then the other, as if he were searching for something. The beach was, as he had said, a bad place to make a landing on a dark night. In fact there was no beach there; nothing but a low, muddy shore, which was thickly lined with gnarled and twisted roots and sharp-pointed snags. It was a fine place for an accident, even in broad daylight; but Jake could have passed through in perfect safety if he had been so minded. Instead of that, he picked out the wickedest looking sawyer in the lot and headed me straight for it, with longer and stronger strokes. Jim, who was seated in the bow, could not see what he was doing, and the attention of the man who occupied the stern was so fully taken up with other matters (keeping his balance, for one) that he could not think of any thing else. While I was wondering what Jake was going to do, he ran my bow high and dry upon the leaning sawyer; and in less time than it takes to tell it I rolled completely over, and came right side up, turning Jake and his passengers out into the cold waters of the lake.
“Human natur’!” sputtered Jake, who was the first to rise to the surface. “What’s the matter with you feller in the bow? Why didn’t you tell me that the snag was there, so’t I could have kept cl’ar of it?”
I knew now what Jake Coyle’s plan was, and felt the keenest anxiety for the two men who had been so unexpectedly dumped over-board, for I had heard them say that they could not swim ten feet to save their lives. But fortunately they could swim a little. Their heads bobbed up almost as quick as Jake’s did, and as soon as they had taken in the situation, they struck out for the snag. They were greatly alarmed, although, as I afterward learned, there was not the slightest reason for it. If they had allowed their feet to sink toward the bottom, they would have found that the water at that place was not more than shoulder-deep.
“How could I be expected to act as lookout when I was sitting with my back to the front end of the boat?” demanded Jim, as soon as he could speak. “Where’s my grip-sack?”