"You meant to drown me—did you?" repeated Mr. Parasyte, with more emphasis than before.
Bob and I looked at each other again. Grave as was the charge he indirectly preferred against us, there was something so ludicrous in the making of it by one whom we had just pulled out of the water, that I could not help smiling. Mr. Parasyte saw that smile, and as he always put the worst construction upon what was done by those not in favor, he misinterpreted it, and tortured it into a sneer.
"I say you meant to drown me; and you sneer at me."
"We did not mean to drown you, sir," replied Tom Rush, respectfully.
"Yes, you did! And now you are laughing at your wicked deed," he replied, looking fiercely at me.
"I was laughing, Mr. Parasyte, to think that one whom we have just pulled out of the water should accuse us of attempting to drown him," I replied.
"That's what you meant to do; but you didn't dare to do it. You were afraid of the consequences."
"You are mistaken, sir; we had no such intentions," added Bob Hale, with due deference.
"Didn't you, or didn't Thornton, throw me over into the lake?" demanded he, as if surprised that we should attempt to deny the charge.
"No, sir; I did not," I answered.