"A mean lot," grumbled Dick, as he wiped his face and looked after the fast departing Nimrods; "I never heard of such a contemptible trick."
"It's a great pity that they should put their wits to such a use," said Bob. "We might as well admit that it was nicely calculated. Next time, if they try anything further, we must be prepared for them."
"We certainly fell easy victims," added Tom Clifton. "And I suppose Nat will tell the story to everybody he knows."
"Hurrah!" cried Dick. "The 'Rambler' moved at least six inches that time. Now, Dave Brandon, another tug!"
The poet laureate was endowed with considerable strength. Spurred on by their success, he gave a prodigious pull, with the startling result that the oar promptly slipped out of the mud, while the would-be author of the great American poem tumbled unceremoniously backward.
Of course he was not hurt. Dave never seemed to suffer much from a mishap. He laughingly arose, and resumed his work.
At the end of another quarter of an hour's work, the "Rambler" slid off the bar into deep water.
The afternoon was drawing to a close, and all thought it best to land at the nearest suitable place. This was found a short distance further on, in a sheltered and picturesque little cove.