"Don't let him hurt these chaps—your grandfather I mean." Jack threw up his head and pointed to the boys. "Only get Mike licked. We'd all of us like that."
"What?" cried Joel over his shoulder, stopping his busy oars.
"Why, when you tell him how mean we used you, don't let him get those chaps into trouble, 'cause——"
"When I tell him!" cried Joel. "What do you mean?"
"Why, of course you'll tell him," blurted Jack. Mike had taken to his heels and was making quick tracks with his sodden shoes through the undergrowth. Things were not going to his taste now.
"See here." Joel made quick passes now with the oars, and brought his boat up alongside the bank. "I'm not going to tell my Grandpapa about what you've done, 'Tisn't any matter."
"You ain't?" cried Jack, getting up so quickly he upset the next boy, who rolled over the big, black dog. "Great Scott! You ain't going to tell the old gentleman?"
"No," said Joel, "I don't care anything about it; you didn't hurt me any."
"Well, if I ever!" It was all that Jack, the leader, could get out. And Joel, seeing there was nothing to wait for, set to work again, and presently amid the rain and the lightning gleams, his boat was only a little speck on the surface of the pond, as viewed by the group of boys on the bank.