stedness, he being in happy ignorance
of the comparative merits of fresh-water fish when cooked; and therefore
he struggled with his miserable, watery, insipid, bony, ill-cooked chub,
while Bob picked the fat flakes off the vertebra of his juicy trout.

"Wish we'd got some more," said Bob, as he licked his fingers, and then
wiped his knife-blade on the leg of his trousers.

"I don't," thought Dexter; but he was silent, and busy picking out the
thin sharp bones which filled his fish.

"Tell you what," said Bob, "we'll--Look out!"

He leaped up and dashed to the boat, rapidly unfastening the chain from
where it was secured to a stump.

Dexter had needed no further telling, for he had caught sight of two men
at the same time as Bob; and as it was evident that they were running
toward the fire, and as Dexter knew intuitively that he was trespassing,
he sprang up, leaving half his chub, and leaped aboard, just as Bob
sprang from the bank, seized an oar, and thrust the boat away.

It was pretty close, for as the stern of the boat left the shore the
foremost man made a dash at it, missed, and nearly fell into the water.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

THE LIFE OF THE FREE.

"Here," cried the man, as he recovered himself, "it's of no use. Come
back!"

Dexter was so influenced by the man's words that he was ready to go back
at once. But Bob was made of different stuff, and he began now to work
the boat along by paddling softly, fish-tail fashion.

"Do you hear!" roared the man, just as the other came trotting up, quite
out of breath.

"Yah!" cried Bob derisively, as he began to feel safe. "Come back, you
young scoundrel!" roared the man fiercely. "Here, Digges, fetch 'em
back."

He was a big black-whiskered man in a velveteen jacket, evidently a
gamekeeper, and he spoke to his companion as if he were a dog.

This man hesitated for a moment or two.

"Go on! Fetch 'em back," cried the keeper.

"But it's so wet."

"Wet? Well, do you want me to go? In with you."

The underkeeper jumped off the bank at once into the water, which was
about up to his knees; but by this time Bob was working the boat along
more quickly, and before the underkeeper had waded out many yards Bob
had seated himself, put out the second scull, and, helped by the stream,
was able to laugh defiance at his would-be captors.

"Here, I ain't going any further," grumbled the underkeeper. "It will
be deep water directly," and he stopped wit