"And you aren't going to let us pass?"
"Nope! That's why I strung that fence last night. It's a good, strong fence, and if you run into it, and try to bust it I'll have th' law on ye!"
"Oh, you needn't worry that I'll do anything like that," spoke Mr.
Bobbsey. "But why won't you let us pass?"
"Because of what you did last night—interferin' between me and my help. You wouldn't let me give Will Watson the threshin' he deserved, an' I won't let you pass through my creek. I want you to back up your boat, too, and go back where you come from. I own that part of the creek where you are now."
"Come now, be reasonable," suggested Mr. Bobbsey. "I stopped you from beating that boy only because you were in the wrong. If you'll just think it over, you'll say so yourself. And, just for that, you shouldn't stop my boat from going up the creek."
"Well, I have stopped you, and I'm going to keep on stoppin' you!" cried Mr. Hardee, again shaking his fist. "You can't get past my fence. It's a good strong fence."
"I—I could cut it, if I had one of those cutter-things, the telephone man had," said Freddie, in his clear, high voice.
"Hush, Freddie dear," said his mother. "Leave it to papa."
Mr. Bobbsey was silent a moment, and then he went on:
"And so you strung that fence in the night, and won't let my houseboat pass, just because I stopped you from beating that boy?"