“I suppose you’d like to get me on shore so that you might run off with my boat?” sneered George.
“I wouldn’t leave you on the island, at any rate, if I did secure the boat,” said Robert.
“Well, I won’t gratify you,” returned George, “I don’t care to have my boat soiled by such a passenger.”
“You’ll get paid for your meanness some time, George Randolph.”
“I’ve taken too much notice of you already, you low fisherman,” said George. “I hope you’ll have a good time staying here all night.”
He began to row away, and as his boat receded Robert saw departing with it the best chance he had yet had of escape from his irksome captivity.
“I didn’t suppose any boy could be so contemptibly mean,” he reflected as his glance followed the boat, which gradually grew smaller and smaller as it drew near the mainland. “I don’t think I’m fond of quarreling, but I wish I could get hold of that boy for five minutes.”
Robert’s indignation was natural, but it was ineffective. He might breathe out threats, but while he was a prisoner his aristocratic foe was riding quickly over the waves.
“He rows well,” thought our hero, willing to do George justice in that respect. “I didn’t think a city boy could row so well. I don’t believe I could row any better myself, though I’ve been used to a boat ever since I was six years old.”
But it would not do to spend all the afternoon in watching George and his boat or he would lose all chance of getting away himself before nightfall.