," Chris said glancing about.
"Barefoot would be the best. This soft ground would soon go over our
shoes and maybe suck them down."

"Keep right against the rushes," Chris warned Amos, "and if a boat
shows up coming from the wharves, we can't take any chances. We'll
have to dive into the rushes and hide, just in case it's Claggett
Chew."

[Illustration]

"That's right," Amos nodded his head vigorously. "I don't want to meet
_him_ again, and you do less'n me!" he chuckled.

The two went on, making slow progress, for the river was deep at that
point, with little foothold between the end of the jungle of reeds and
deep water.

"Keep an eye out, Amos!" Chris called back over his shoulder as he
went ahead. It was no time before Amos's voice came huskily up to his
friend.

"Chris! Chris--hold on! There's a boat with four men in it just left
the last wharf, and they're headin' this way! Get in those rushes
quick--my clothes is mighty bright!"

[Illustration]

Rushing and panting, they shoved their way into the dusty rushes,
groping back until they could barely see the river through the stalks.
And it was just in time, for barely were they hidden when they heard,
carried over the water, the dip and splash of two pairs of oars and
the creak of oarlocks. Then, in another moment, came the high-pitched
voice of Osterbridge Hawsey. Chris gave a shiver as it reached him.

"Claggett," came the voice of the fop, who with Claggett Chew was
sitting in the stern of the boat, "Claggett--I find myself quite,
quite fatigued. A little wine, I fancy, might revive me when we reach
the ship. Heated, I think, and spiced, to ward off the night chill.
And Claggett," went on the voice, almost upon them now it was so
clear, "what do you think of this muslin for my new shirts? Is it not
delicate? Irish, _cela va sans dire_, as the dear French say. I feel
sure it will be satisfactory."

From Claggett Chew the two boys heard not a word, and peering out,
they saw the boat shoot by. Osterbridge Hawsey, wrapped in a great
cloak, was admiring a bolt of muslin that he held, but Claggett Chew,
his face shadowed by a hat, was holding his whip upon his knees and
glowering at the water.

The boat passed, and some time after, the two boys heard from across
the water the echo of wood against wood as the dinghy reached the
_Venture's_ hull. After a while, as the boys were about to move along,
a heavy dropping sound, and the shuddering of the marshy