as worse for the man in his heavy
little broadly-bowed tub; and so it happened that just as Bob began to
row more slowly, and burst into a fit of howling, which made Dexter feel
as if he would like to turn and hit him over the head with his oar--a
contact of scull against skull--the man suddenly ceased rowing, turned
in his seat, and sat shaking his fist at them, showing his teeth in his
impotent rage.

"There!" cried Bob, who was transformed in an instant. "We've bet him.
He can't pull no further. Yah! yah!"

Bob changed back to his state of cowardly prostration, and began to tug
once more at his oar, for his derisive yell galvanised the man once more
into action, and the pursuit was continued.

"Oh!" howled Bob. "Who'd ha' thought o' that?"

"Who's stupid now?" panted Dexter, as he too rowed with all his might.

Bob did nothing but groan, and the pursuit and flight were once more
continued, each moment with despair getting a stronger hold of the
fugitives. The oar felt hot in Dexter's blistered hands, a peculiar
sensation of heaving was in his chest, his eyes began to swim, and he
was just about to cease rowing, when he could hardly believe his
starting eyes--their enemy had once more given up the pursuit, and was
sitting wrenched round, and staring after them.

"Don't, pray, don't shout at him this time, Bob," panted Dexter.

"I won't if you're afraid," said the young scoundrel.

"Keep on rowing, or he'll come after us again."

Bob's scull was dipped again directly, and the motion of the boat was
kept up sufficiently to counteract the drift of the tide, while the man
in the little tub was swept rapidly away.

"Let's get over the other side to those trees," said Dexter, as he felt
that he could row no further, and the boat's head was directed
half-across the stream so as to reach the clump of willows indicated,
where, after a much heavier pull than they had anticipated, the gig was
made fast, and Bob's first act after laying down his scull was to lean
over the side and drink heartily of the muddy water.

Dexter would gladly have lain down to rest, but there was a watch to
keep up.

Bob mocked at the idea.

"Yah!" he said; "he won't some any more. I say, are you nearly dry?"

"Nearly," said Dexter, "all but my boots and socks."

These he took off, and put in the sun to dry, as he sat there with his
elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands, watching till Bob was
asleep.

He was faint and h