"I'm very sorry, Bob," he said gently.

"Sorry! Being sorry won't b.u.t.ter no parsneps," growled Bob.

"No," said Dexter mildly, "but we haven't got any parsneps to b.u.t.ter."

"No, nor ain't likely to have," growled Bob, and then returning to a favourite form of expression: "And you call yourself a mate! Here, come and kitch holt of this scull."

Dexter sat down on the thwart, and took the scull after Bob had contrived to give him a spiteful blow on the back with it before he extricated it from its rowlock.

Dexter winced slightly, but he bore the pain without a word, and began rowing as well as a boy does row who handles a scull for the first time in his life. And there he sat, gazing to right and left at the dark banks of the river, and the stars above and reflected below, as they went slowly on along the bends and reaches of the little river, everything looking strangely distorted and threatening to the boy's unaccustomed eyes.

The exercise soon began to bring a general feeling of warmth to his chilled frame, and as the inward helplessness pa.s.sed away it began to give place to an acute sense of fear, and his eyes wandered here and there in search of Sir James Danby, the doctor, and others more terrible, who would charge them with stealing the boat in spite of his protests and the money he had left behind.

And all the time to make his trip more pleasant he had to suffer from jarring blows upon the spine, given by the top of Bob's oar.

In nearly every case this was intentional, and Bob chuckled to himself, as with the customary outburst of his cla.s.s he began to abuse his companion.

"Why don't yer mind and keep time!" he cried. "Who's to row if you go on like that? I never see such a stoopid."

"All right, Bob, I'll mind," said Dexter, with all the humility of an ignorance which kept him from knowing that as he was rowing stroke Bob should have taken his time from him.

The blows on the back had two good effects, however: they gratified Bob, who had the pleasure of tyrannising over and inflicting pain upon his comrade, while Dexter gained by the rapid increase of warmth, and was most likely saved from a chill and its accompanying fever.

Still that night trip was not pleasant, for when Bob was not grumbling about the regularity of Dexter's stroke, he had fault to find as to his pulling too hard or not hard enough, and so sending the head of the boat toward the right or left bank of the stream. In addition, the young bully kept up a running fire of comment on his companion's shortcomings.

"I never see such a mate," he said. "No money and no clothes. I say,"

he added at the end of one grumbling fit, "what made you want to run away!"

"I don't know," said Dexter sadly. "I suppose it was because you persuaded me."

"Oh, come, that's a good un," said Bob. "Why, it was you persuaded me!

You were always wanting to go away, and you said we could take Danby's boat, and go right down to the sea."

"No!" protested Dexter; "it was you said that."

"Me!" cried Bob. "Oh, come, I like that, 'pon my word I do. It was you always begging of me to go, and to take you with me. Why, I shouldn't never have thought of such a thing if you hadn't begun it."

Dexter was silent, and now getting thoroughly warm he toiled on with his oar, wondering whether Bob would be more amiable when the day came, and trying to think of something to say to divert his thoughts and make him cease his quarrelsome tone.

"I never see such a mate," growled Bob again. "No money, no clothes!

why, I shall have to keep yer, I s'pose."

"How long will it take us to get down to the sea, Bob?" said Dexter at last.

"I d'know. Week p'r'aps."

"But we shall begin fishing before then, shan't we!"

"Fishing! How are you going to fish without any rod and line? Expects me to find 'em for yer, I s'pose!"

"No, but I thought you would catch the fish, and I could light a fire and cook them."

"Oh, that's what yer thought, was it? Well, p'r'aps we shall, and p'r'aps we shan't."

"Do you think they will come after us!" ventured Dexter, after a time.

"Sure to, I should say; and if they do, and they kitches us, I shall say as it was you who stole the boat."

"No, you won't," said Dexter, plucking up a little spirit now he was getting more himself. "You wouldn't be such a sneak."

"If you call me a sneak, I'll chuck you out of the boat," cried Bob angrily.

"I didn't call you a sneak, I only said you wouldn't be such a sneak,"

protested Dexter.

"I know what you said: yer needn't tell me, and I won't have it, so now then. If you want to quarrel, you'd better get out and go back."

"But I don't want to quarrel, Bob; I want to be the best of friends."

"Then don't yer call me a sneak, because if you do it'll be the worse for you."

"Oh, I say, Bob," protested Dexter, as he tugged away at his oar, "don't be so disagreeable."

"And now he says I'm disagreeable!" cried Bob. "Well of all the chaps as ever I see you're about the nastiest. Look here, do you want to fight? because if you do, we'll just go ash.o.r.e here and have it out."

"I don't want to fight indeed, Bob."

"Yes, you do; you keep egging of me on, and saying disagreeable things as would have made some chaps give you one for yourself ever so long ago. Lookye here, only one on us can be captain in this here boat, and it is going to be either me or you. I don't want to be, but I ain't going to be quite jumped upon, so we'll get ash.o.r.e here, and soon see who it's going to be."

As Bob Dimsted spoke in a low snarling way, he gave his scull so hard a pull that he sent the boat's head in toward the bank.

"First you want one thing, and then you want another, and then you try to make out that it was me who stole the boat."

"I only said it wasn't me."

"There," cried Bob, "hark at that! Why, who was it then?" Didn't you take yer clothes off and swim over while I stood t'other side?

Dexter did not answer, but went on rowing with a hot feeling of anger rising in his breast.

"Oh, so now you're sulky, are you? Very well, my lad, we'll soon see to that. If you don't know who's best man, I'm going to show you. It's dark, but it's light enough for that, so come ash.o.r.e and--"

_Whish! rush! crash_!

"Row! pull! pull!" whispered Bob excitedly, as there was a loud breaking of the low growth on the bank close by them, followed by the loud clap given by a swing-gate violently dashed to.

Dexter pulled, but against the bank, for they were too close in for them to get a dip of the oar in the water; but what he did was not without some effect, and, as Bob backed, the boat's head gradually glided round, shot into the stream, and they went swiftly on again, pulling as hard as they could.

"Did you see him!" whispered Bob at last.