deceived Master Barney.

"It ain't us who sent him over there. He spouted up and told how Jip was
in Philadelphy, an' we hadn't any call to tell him it wasn't so."

"But how'll he get back?"

"Well, if I was in that town, or any other where the railroad folks only
charge seventy-five cents to fetch me home, you can bet I wouldn't hang
'round the streets very long cryin' baby; I'd hustle an' earn money.
That's the way Sam can get back, an' the more you feel bad 'bout him the
bigger fool you're makin' of yourself. I ain't stickin' up for Jip
Collins, 'cause when he set fire to Baxter's lumber-yard he knew he was
doin' what would send him to jail; but at the same time 'twixt him an'
Sam I ain't certain but I'd rather give Jip a boost."

Then Bill discussed the affair in its different phases, laying great
stress upon what was apparently to him a fact, that by giving Sam Barney
an opportunity of learning that he was not really a detective, they were
conferring a benefit upon him.

As Master Dean presented the case, there had been no deception
practised, because they could only have convinced Sam of his error by
betraying Jip, who had placed himself in the hands of his friends, and
Master Barney never once asked for information, but, instead, asserted
that he knew where the fugitive was concealed.

In this wise was the time spent during what was a reasonably long
journey, and Bill had hardly more than come to the end of his arguments
when they arrived at the Erie Basin.

"There's where Jip is hidin'," Master Dean said as he pointed to a
dilapidated boat lying at the opposite side of the Basin, and at that
moment Dan and Seth saw what at first sight appeared to be a
dark-colored ball placed in the combing of the companionway hatch.

When it suddenly disappeared, and a certain portion of it came again
into view, they understood it was the head of the young gentleman they
had journeyed thus far to visit, and Dan shouted loudly:

"Hi! It's only us! Don't get scared!"

Not until he had assured himself by actual survey that there were
none other than these three friends in the vicinity, did the
disconsolate-looking firebug venture to show himself, and then
he came out on the deck with a certain humility that was in marked
contrast with his former swagger.

"Is Sam Barney still on my trail?" he asked piteously, and that he might
not be kept in suspense, Bill gave a detailed account of the afternoon's
proceedings so far