"Nor I," said the young waterman; "and in a few moments it will be best to do that. Is there a stairs close at hand?"
"Not one," said the old man. "It's a done thing. We can't land you, except in the water, if that can be called landing you at all. I don't know what to be at."
"Oh, save me!" said Todd.
"But how can we?"
"Yes," said the young waterman, "there's one way of managing that, I think, will do it, and do it well, too."
"Oh, how can I thank you?"
"Don't mention it. Suppose we put him on to the first craft we come along-side of in the river, that is moored, and has got no one on board? It won't be noticed, like our putting into a landing would, you know. They would be sure to say we had put some one on shore. But if we just ease the boat for a moment as we pass some craft, our fare can scramble on board, and we can go right on, and let the police overtake us, and overhaul us in due course. I'll be bound that by this light there's not a man on board of yonder craft can take upon himself to say whether there's one, two, or three people in our wherry."
"Yes," said the old man, "that will do if anything will, and if that don't do, nothing will."
"It will do," said Todd; "it will do. I thank you from my heart for the suggestion. It will do well. All you have to do is to let me board the craft in the river, upon the side furthest removed from the police boat. Oh! you will have the prayers of the widow and the fatherless, for this kind act."
"Never mind about that. Pull away."