“For my health,” snorted Joe, as he pitched the end of the tow-line ashore.
“Have you left Nathan Boggs?” continued Luke, with a grin.
“Better ask him when you see him,” answered the boy, squatting down with his back to young Maslin, a pretty good sign that he wanted no further communication with his questioner.
But Luke wouldn’t take the hint.
“Seen anything of Dick Armstrong?” he persisted. “He’s run away from here with some of my father’s money. Constable Smock is hunting for him. Father is going to have him put in the village lock-up.”
Joe didn’t answer him.
“Maybe you’ve got him hid away aboard the boat,” added Luke, suspiciously. “If you have, you’d better give him up, or it will be the worse for you.”
As those words passed his lips the forward end of the canal-boat passed under the bridge, and Luke ran over to the other side of the structure to meet it as it floated clear.
Dick easily overheard his young enemy’s remarks from the spot where he was screened from Luke’s line of observation.
He forgot, however, to change his position below as the boat passed under the bridge, not thinking that Luke, by crossing the planks to the opposite rail, would be able to obtain a different focus down into his hiding-place if he was wideawake enough to keep his eyes well employed.