"Oh, don't, Massa Bob. I won't do so again. 'Deed I won't."
Bob didn't relent for some time. He felt that it was necessary to impress Clip with the heinousness of his conduct. At length he agreed to give him one more chance. He had to secure the services of two stout backwoodsmen to remove the tree, and this occasioned a delay of at least two hours. Finally the boat got started again, and for the remainder of the day there was no trouble.
Towards the close of the afternoon they reached a place which we will call Riverton. It was a smart Western village of about two thousand inhabitants. Bob and Sam went on shore to get some supper, leaving Clip in charge.
"Now, Clip, you must keep your eyes open, and take good care of everything while we are gone," said Bob.
"All right, Massa Bob."
About ten minutes after the boys went away Clip was sitting on a barrel whistling a plantation melody, when a slender, florid-complexioned young man stepped aboard.
"Good-evening, sir," he said, removing his hat.
"Evenin'," answered Clip, with a grin. He was flattered by being addressed as "sir."
"Are you in charge of this boat?"
"Yes; while Massa Bob and Sam are gone ashore."