“He did?”
“Yes; my name is Ted Lanham. I live at Greenbush. He got me while I was in swimming. He’s awful, fellows,” and to prove the truth of his assertion, he pulled up his sleeve, showing several large black and blue spots on each of his arms.
“Why, that’s a dirty shame!” cried Fleet “And you say this captain is in that cabin?”
“Sh! Yes; he’s in there, but he’s about half shot.”
“Well, we’ll get him for this!” said Fleet, whose sympathies had gone out to the unfortunate lad.
“You can’t do it; he’s six-foot tall and weighs over two hundred.”
“Don’t care if he weighs a million. There’s enough of us to take care of him.”
“I have a better plan,” said Chot. “You say you live at Greenbush?”
“Yes.”
“Well, we’re headed in that direction. Your canoe will hold two, Fleet. Suppose we just take Ted off and leave the catboat to drift where she pleases.”