d he'll stop us, and
he'll drown'd us both."

"He daren't," said Dexter stoutly, though he felt a peculiar sinking all
the time.

"But he will, he will. It's no use to row."

Dexter felt desperate now, for theirs was an awkward position; and to
his horror he saw that Bob was ceasing to row, and looking up at the
bank on his left.

"You go on rowing," cried Dexter fiercely.

"I shan't," whimpered Bob; "it's of no use. I shan't row no more."

_Thud_!

Bob yelled out, more in fear than in pain, for the sound was caused by
Dexter swinging the boat-hook round and striking his companion a sharp
rap on the side of the head.

"Go on rowing," cried Dexter, "and keep in the middle."

Bob howled softly; but, like a horse that has just received an
admonition from the whip, he bent to his task, and rowed with all his
might, blubbering the while.

"That's right," cried Dexter, who felt astonished at his hardihood. "We
can't be far now. Pull--pull hard. There, I can see the river.
Hurray, Bob, we're nearly there!"

Bob sobbed and snuffled, and bent down over his oars, rowing as if for
life or death. The boat was speeding swiftly through the muddy water,
the opening with its deep fringe of reeds was there, and Dexter was
making up his mind to try and direct Bob to pull right or left so as to
get to the thinnest place that the boat might glide right out, when he
saw something.

"No, Bob, only a little way," he had said. "Pull with all your might."

Then he stopped short and stared aghast.

Fortunately Bob was bending down, sobbing, and straining every nerve, as
if he expected another blow, otherwise he would have been chilled by
Dexter's look of dread, for there, just as if he had dropped from the
bank and begun wading, was their enemy, who, as the boat neared, took up
his position right in the middle of the creek, where the water was
nearly to his chest, and, with the reeds at his back, waited to seize
the boat.

Dexter stood holding the boat-hook, half-paralysed for a few moments,
and then, moved by despair, he stepped over the thwart toward Bob.

"No, no," cried the latter, ducking down his head. "I will pull--I will
pull."

He did pull too, with all his might, and the boat was going swiftly
through the water as Dexter stepped right over the left-hand scull,
nearly toppled over, but recovered himself, and stood in the bows of the
boat, as they were now within twenty yards of the man, who, wet and
muddy