Bart Hankers' rowboat was close at hand and into this the rich boy climbed slowly and painfully, for he was still partly dazed by the crack under the chin.
His wet and muddy appearance made many in the crowd laugh.
"I say, Bart, you look as if you were dressed for the ball!" cried one boy.
"Now's the time to call on your best girl, Bart. You're in good shape for hugging her," added another.
"You fellows shut up!" growled the rich youth, shaking his fist at them. "If you don't I'll make it hot for the lot of you."
"About as hot as you made it for Dave Fearless, eh?" was the reply, and a shout of derision went up.
Then one of the boys began to throw some fish bait at Bart, and in a minute half a dozen youths were at it and Bart was struck in several places.
"Oh, I must get away from here," he muttered and then cried to Hank Shores: "Row me over to Purry's dock, will you, Shores?"
"I will," replied Shores, and leaping into the rowboat, took up the oars. Soon the craft was out of reach of those left behind. But before Bart got out of hearing he heard the village lads give a hurrah for Dave Fearless.
"All right, Dave Fearless," he muttered, under his breath. "You 're on top this time, but I reckon my father and I will win in the long run."