"Look out! Heads!" cried Bob, as the bow of the boat touched the leaf.a.ge, and they glided on through the pliant twigs; and as the sculls were laid in, Bob rose up in his place, seized a good-sized bough, and holding on by it worked the boat beneath, and in a position which enabled him to throw the chain over, and securely moor the little vessel in what formed quite a leafy arbour with the clear water for floor, and the thwarts of the boat for seats.

"There," cried Bob, in a satisfied tone, and with a little of his old manner, "whatcher think o' that? Talk about a place for a bragfuss!

Why, it would do to live in."

Dexter said it was capital, but somehow just then he began to think about the pleasant room at the doctor's, with the white cloth and china, and the silver coffee-pot, and the odour from the covered dish which contained ham or bacon, or fried soles.

"Now then!" cried Bob; "I'm as hungry as you, and we're all safe here, so hand over."

Dexter gave him one of the portions of bread and cheese--the better of the two, but Bob turned it over and examined it in a dissatisfied way, scowling at it the while, and casting an occasional glance at that which Dexter had reserved for himself.

"What I says is--play fair," he growled. "I don't want no more than half."

"But that's the bigger half, Bob."

"I dunno so much about that."

"And this is the one which seemed to be a little gritty."

"Oh, is it?" said Bob surlily; and he began eating in a wolfish fashion, making fierce snaps and bites at his food, as he held the bread in one hand, the cheese in the other, and taking alternate mouthfuls.

"Hunger is sweet sauce," and Dexter was not long in following Bob's example, that is as to the eating, but as he sat there munching away at the cakey home-made bread, and the strong cheese, in spite of its being a glorious morning, and the sun showering down in silver pencils through the overhanging boughs--in spite of the novelty of the scene, and the freedom, there did not seem to be so much romance in the affair as had been expected; and try how he would he could not help longing for a good hot cup of coffee.

This was not heroic, but the boy felt very miserable. He had been up all night, going through adventures that were, in spite of their tameness, unusually exciting, and he was suffering from a nervous depression which robbed him of appet.i.te as much as did his companion's words. For instead of being merry, confidential, and companionable, Bob scarcely opened his lips now without a.s.suming the overbearing bullying tone he had heard so often from his elders.

"Come, get on with your bragfuss," said Bob sharply. "We're going on d'rectly, and you've got to pull."

"I can't eat much this morning," said Dexter apologetically; "and I'm thirsty."

"Well, why don't yer drink!" said Bob, grinning, and pointing at the river. "Here, I'll show you how."

He took off his cap, and placing his chest on the side of the boat, leant over till his lips touched the clear flowing stream.

"Hah!" he said at last, rising and pa.s.sing his hand across his lips; "that's something like water, that is. Better than tea, or drinking water out of a mug."

"Doesn't it taste fishy?" Dexter ventured to say.

"Fishy! Hark at him!" cried Bob mockingly. "You try."

Dexter's mouth felt hot and dry, and laying aside what he had not eaten of his bread and cheese he followed his companion's example, and was drawing in the cool sweet water, when he suddenly felt Bob's hand on the back of his, neck, and before he could struggle up his head was thrust down into the water over and over again.

"Don't, don't!" he panted, as he thrust against the side of the boat and got free. "You shouldn't do that."

There was a flash of anger in his eyes as he faced Bob, and his fists were clenched, but he did not strike out, he contented himself with rubbing the water from his eyes, and then wiping his face upon his handkerchief.

"I shouldn't do that? Why shouldn't I do that?" said Bob threateningly.

"Serve yer right, sittin' down to bragfuss without washing yer face.

Going to have any more?"

Dexter did not answer; but finished drying his face, and then took up his bread and cheese.

"Oh, that's it, is it!" said Bob. "Sulky, eh? Don't you come none o'

them games with me, young fellow, or it will be the worse for yer."

Dexter made no reply, but went on eating, having hard work to swallow each mouthful.

Time back all this would not have made so much impression upon him, but the social education he had been receiving in his intercourse with Helen Grayson had considerably altered him, and his breast swelled as he felt the change in his companion, and began to wish more than ever that he had not come.

Almost as he thought this he received a curious check.

"It won't do for you to be sulky with me," began his tyrant. "You've got to go along o' me now you have come. You couldn't go back after stealing this boat."

"Stealing!" cried Dexter, flushing up. "I didn't steal it. We borrowed it together."

"Oh, did we?" said Bob mockingly; "I don't know nothing about no _we_.

It was you stole it, and persuaded me to come."

"I didn't," cried Dexter indignantly. "I only borrowed it, and you helped me do it."

"Oh, did I? We shall see about that. But you can't go back never no more, so don't you think that."

Bob's guess at his companion's thoughts was pretty shrewd; and as Dexter sat looking at him aghast, with the full extent of his delinquency dawning upon him, Bob began to unloose the chain.

"Now then," he said, "finish that there bread and cheese, or else put it in yer pocket. We're going on again, and I want to catch our dinner."

The idea of doing something more in accordance with the object of their trip roused Dexter into action, and, after helping to force the boat from among the branches, he willingly took one of the sculls; and in obedience to the frequently given orders, rowed as well as his inexperience would allow, and they glided swiftly down the stream.

"What are you going to do first, Bob?" said Dexter, who felt more bright and cheerful now out in the sunshine, with the surface all ripple and glow.

"Why, I telled yer just now!" said the boy surlily. "Mind what yer doing, or you'll catch a crab."

Dexter did catch one the next moment, thrusting his oar in so deeply that he could hardly withdraw it, and bringing forth quite a little storm of bullying from his companion.

"Here, I shall never make nothing o' you," cried Bob. "Give's that there oar."

"No, no, let me go on pulling," said Dexter good-humouredly, for his fit of anger had pa.s.sed off. "I'm not used to it like you are, but I shall soon learn."

He tried to emulate Bob's regular rowing, and by degrees managed to help the boat along till toward midday, when, seeing an attractive bend where the river ran deep and dark round by some willows, Bob softly rowed the boat close up to the bank, moored her to the side, and then began to fit together his tackle, a long willow wand being cut and trimmed to do duty for a rod.

This done, a very necessary preliminary had to be attended to, namely, the finding of bait.

Bob was provided with a little canvas bag, into which he thrust a few green leaves and some sc.r.a.ps of moss, before leaping ash.o.r.e, and proceeding to kick off patches of the bank in search of worms.

Dexter watched him attentively, and then his eyes fell upon a good-sized, greenish-hued caterpillar which had dropped from a willow branch into the boat.

This seemed so suitable for a bait that Dexter placed it in one of Bob's tin boxes, and proceeded to search for more; the boughs upon being shaken yielding six or seven.

"Whatcher doing of?" grumbled Bob, coming back to the boat, after securing a few worms. "Yah! they're no use for bait."

All the same, though, the boy took one of the caterpillars, pa.s.sed the hook through its rather tough skin, and threw out some distance in front of the boat, and right under the overhanging boughs.