“I guess it did,” Bob replied. “But we’d better get to the shore as soon as possible. They’ll be mad enough to do murder and it won’t take them long to wade ashore.”
As rapidly as possible they worked the heavy scow toward the bank.
“We’re not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot,” Bob declared a little later as he saw the men, having abandoned the row boat, wading toward the shore.
“You’re right,” Jack agreed. “And,” he added, “it’ll be light pretty soon. And if they get hold of us goodnight.”
A glance toward the east told the others that what Jack had said was right. Already dawn was lighting up the sky.
“What’ll we do?” Rex asked anxiously.
“Run for it as soon as we get ashore,” Bob replied as he redoubled his efforts.
Nothing more was said while they were urging the scow shoreward. Both Bob and Jack, being well acquainted with the nature of the half-breeds of Northern Maine, knew that the situation was serious. Should the five men get hold of them, while still maddened at the wetting and the tearing down of the pier, they would be lucky indeed to escape serious injury to say the least. But they were careful not to alarm Rex, hoping that they would be able to escape.
From time to time they cast anxious glances toward the men, who could be plainly seen in the increasing light. They were making good progress through the water and, although they would be obliged to swim a part of the way, both the boys recognized the fact that their start would be short.
“Think we’d better stick to the scow and let her go down river?” Jack whispered.