CHAPTER VII
A DESPERATE STRUGGLE
“Sit down, Sam! Sit down!” cried Fred, who was placed nearest him. “What’s the matter with you? Are you crazy?”
Sam, however, made no answer. He strode forward toward the object of his hatred, paying no attention to Fred’s words and showing an absolute disregard of the danger of falling overboard. Fortunately in this peril the boat was heavy and very steady.
“Get back there!” cried Fred in alarm, trying to grab Sam’s arm.
“Lemme go,” said Sam roughly, knocking Fred’s hand aside.
“Grab him, John. Grab him,” shouted Fred as the excited negro made his way past the seat where he was located.
“Lemme go,” said Sam darkly, and seeing the look on his face John drew back instinctively.
“Hold him, Grant! Grab him, Pop!” shrieked Fred, at the same time rising to his feet and attempting to catch Sam from behind.
He was too late, however. Sam, seeing that he might be balked in his purpose, took no more chances. He made one flying leap almost over the heads of Grant and George, who were waiting to seize him. This was done so unexpectedly that the two boys were taken by surprise, and though they tried to do as Fred had begged them, they were unsuccessful. Sam tripped and fell forward, but when he landed he fell squarely on top of his enemy.