"I takes folks ober de riber in it, and some days I makes twenty cents wid it. Can't affode to lose it, Mars'r," protested Cuffy.
"If you lose it, I will give you another."
"Dat so? Whar's yo' boat?"
"It is down below there, and you will not have to wait a single hour for it."
"Whar you git dat boat, Mars'r?"
"No matter about that now; I will tell you when we have more time," replied Deck, as he rode his horse to a tree, followed by both of his companions, and secured him to the sapling, as did the others.
Returning to the bank, they lay down upon the ground, where they could see the four troopers without being seen. They had found the negro's flatboat, and carried it to the stream. This was done, perhaps, half a mile above where the wanderers had landed, and the current was not so violent as it was where the water concentrated all its force against the lofty bluff.
The Southrons put the boat into the water after they had tipped it over, and emptied out the leakage or the rain which it contained. Then they seated themselves equidistant fore and aft in the rickety craft, and pushed off.
"I knowed dey was gwine to steal my boat," groaned Cuffy again, as the skiff receded from the shore.
"Don't say that again!" said Deck, disgusted with the ferryman. "If you do, I won't give you any boat for the one you lose!"