caught the bars of their little prison-house on his
crutches and tossed it out of the way of the feet of the mules, which
were also becoming excited.

Still pleading uselessly for peace, Melvin managed to drag poor Gerald
out of the road to a safer place, then warmed himself by seeking to
warm his poor friend. So engaged did he become in trying to reanimate
the motionless form that he scarcely heard what was going on about him
or knew when the frightened mules set out on a lively trot for home,
leaving their owner behind them but carrying away the row-boat, well
strapped to the wagon-box.

Then suddenly, upon the uproar of angry voices, jabbering monkeys, the
rumble of the disappearing wagon, and the screeching of an owl in the
tree-top, broke another sound. A man came merrily whistling out of the
woods, his gun over his shoulder, his dog at his heels.

"Shut up, Towse! What in Bedlam's here!" cried the newcomer, running
up. A moment later, when he had recognized the befused and battered
teamster, demanding: "Who you fightin' with now, By Smith? Never
really at peace 'cept when ye're rowin', are ye?"

This salutation surprised the contestants into quiet, and the man
addressed as "By" laughed sheepishly, and picked his hat out of the
mud. Then he turned and discovered the loss of his wagon. At this his
fury burst forth again and he slouched upon poor Cap'n Jack with
uplifted fists and the demand:

"Whe's my team at, you thief? You stole my wagon! What you done with
my wagon you----"

But a hand laid across his lips prevented his saying more.

"There, there, Byny, that'll do. Lost your wagon, have you? Well, it
serves you right. A fellow that takes the pledge 's often as you do
an' breaks it as often. Now, sober up, or down, and tell what all this
rumpus means and who these folks are."

There was something very winning about this newcomer, with his frank
manner and happy face, which smiled even while he reproved, but no
words can well describe the utter carelessness of his attire and his
general air of a ne'er-do-well. The lads, Melvin and Jim, began to
explain, but a lofty wave of the cripple's crutch bade them yield that
point to him.

"I'm Cap'n Jack Hurry, of the Water Lily; a yacht cruisin' these here
waters an'--an'----"

The excited old man paused. The man with the gun was laughing! As for
that he, Cap'n Jack, saw nothing laughable in the present situation.

"Cruising in the woods, you mean, eh? Good