The men could carry the remainder of the goods in one load, and the three went out of the barn hurriedly, Sam not daring to so much as lift his eyes from the ground lest Long Jim's threat should be carried into execution.
Arriving at the water's edge the boat was loaded, the prisoner ordered to take his place at the oars, and then the final preparations were made.
Phil uncovered the boat in which Sam had come, launched and overturned her. Then taking the hat from the unresisting boy's head, threw it far out in the channel, afterward giving the little craft a shove which sent her a long distance from the shore. Next the two oars were sent after the hat, and Phil said with a laugh:
"The current ain't very strong; but with the aid of the wind I reckon that stuff will drift up to the fair grounds before dark."
Sam's despair was already so great that it did not seem as if it could be increased; but the last vestige of hope fled when he realized that these things had been done in order to make it appear as if he were dead.
"Teddy and Dan won't think of huntin' for me after the boat is found," he thought, "an' these men are sure to kill me before this scrape is over!"
The two burglars seated themselves comfortably in the stern-sheets, the packages being placed at the bow to trim the craft properly, and Long Jim said, sternly:
"You've been showin' off your skill as an oarsman for two or three days, an' we want you to do it now. Put in your best licks, for it'll be tough if we don't get through the water mighty fast."
Even Sam's worst enemy would have pitied him at this moment. No galley slave chained to his seat could have been more utterly helpless, and he exerted himself to the utmost in order to please those who professed to be so willing to punish or kill.
Every stroke of the oars took them farther away from the fair grounds, and each puff of wind carried the evidences of the prisoner's death nearer the only ones who might take the trouble to search for him.