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Quicksilver; The Boy With No Skid To His Wheel, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 35. Bob Asks A Question |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. BOB ASKS A QUESTION
"Only one," replied Bob. "Ah! I could show you a place where you could pull 'em up like anything. I say, though, the boat ain't worth a pound." "Oh yes, she is," said Bob. "Not a pound and the boat too." "Yes, she is," said Bob, watching Dexter the while out of the corner of one eye. "I wouldn't give a pound for her, only there's a man I know wants just such a boat." Dexter sat up, looking very determined, and ready to speak when he thought that the proper time had come, and Bob kept on watching him. "Look here!" said the man, "as you two's come out fishing, I'll give you fifteen shillings and my boat, and that's more than yours is worth." "No, you won't," said Bob. "Well, sixteen, then. Come, that's a shilling too much." Bob shook his head, hooked, and took a good-sized smelt off his hook. "It's more than I care to give," said the man, who grew warm as Bob seemed cold. "There, I'll go another shilling--seventeen." Bob still shook his head, and Dexter sat ready to burst out into an explosion of anger and threat if his companion sold the boat. "Nineteen, then," said the man. "Nineteen, and my old un as rides the water like a duck. You won't?" "No," said Bob. "Well, then," cried the man, "I'm off." "All right," said Bob coolly. "There, I'll give you the twenty shillings, but you'll have to give me sixpence back. Look here! I've got the money." He showed and rattled the pound's worth of silver he had. "Come on. You get into my boat, and I'll get into yours." "No, yer won't," said Bob. "I won't sell it." "What!" cried the man angrily, and he raised one of his oars from the water. "I won't sell," cried Bob, seizing the oars as he dropped his rod into the boat. "You mean to tell me that you're going to make a fool of me like that!" He began to pull the little tub in which he sat toward the gig, but Bob was too quick for him. The gig glided through the water at double the rate possible to the old craft, and though it was boy against man, the former could easily hold his own. Fortunately they were not moored to the bank or the event might have been different, for the man had raised his oar as if with the intention of striking the boat in which the boys were seated. "Here, you, stop!" he shouted. Bob replied in dumb show with his sculls, dipping them as fast as he could, and looking very pale the while, till they were well out of reach, when he rested for a moment, and yelled back in defiant tones the one word-- "Yah!" "All right, my lads," shouted the fellow. "I know yer. You stole that boat, that's what you've done!" "Row hard, Bob!" whispered Dexter. "It's all very fine to say row hard. You kitch hold and help." Dexter readily seized the second scull, and began to pull with so much energy and effect that they had soon passed the muddy creek up which the man had gone and come, and before long he was out of sight. "It was all your fun, Bob," said Dexter, as they went on. "I thought you meant to sell the boat." "So I did," grumbled Bob; "only you were so disagreeable about it. How are we to get on for money when mine's all done!" "I don't know," said Dexter dolefully. "Can't we work for some?" "Yah! How can we work? I say, though, he knew you'd stolen the boat." "I didn't steal it, and it isn't stolen," said Dexter indignantly. "I wrote and told Sir James that we had only borrowed it, and I sent some money, and I shall send some more if we cannot find a way to get it back." "See if they don't call it stealing," said Bob grimly. "Look there at the her'ns." He nodded toward where a couple of the tall birds were standing heel-deep in the shallow water, intent upon their fishing, and so well accustomed to being preserved that they did not attempt to rise from their places. Dexter was so much interested in the birds that he forgot all about their late adventure. Then they rowed on for about a couple of hours, and their next proceeding was to look out for a suitable spot for their meal. There were no high cliff-like banks now, but here and there, alternating with meadows, patches of woodland came down to the water's edge, and at one of these they stopped, fastened the boat to a tree where it was quite out of sight; and now for the first time they began to see boats passing along. So far the little tub in which the would-be purchaser of their gig was seated was the only one they had seen on the water, but they were approaching a village now, and in low places they had seen high posts a short distance from the water's edge, on which were festooned long nets such as were used for the salmon at the time they run. As soon as they had landed, a fire was lit, the fish cleaned, and the remainder of the bread and butter left from the last meal brought ashore. After which, as an experiment, it was decided to roast the smelts before the blaze, a task they achieved with more or less success. As each fish was deemed sufficiently cooked it was eaten at once--a piece of bread forming the plate--and, with the exception of wanting salt, declared to be delicious. "Ever so much better than chub, Bob," said Dexter, to which for a wonder that young gentleman agreed. Evening soon came on, and as it was considered doubtful whether they could find as satisfactory a place for their night's rest as that where they were, it was decided to stop, and go on at sunrise next morning. "We shall get to the sea to-morrow," said Bob, as he began to yawn. "I'm jolly glad of it, for I'm tired of the river, and I want to catch cod-fish and soles, and something big. Whatcher yawning for?" "I'm tired and sleepy," said Dexter, as he sat upon the roots of an old tree, three or four yards from the water's edge. "Yah! you're always sleepy," said Bob. "But I had to keep watch while you slept." "So you will have to again." "But that isn't fair," said Dexter, in ill-used tones. "It's your turn to watch now." "Well, I'll watch half the night, if you watch the other," said Bob. "That's fair, isn't it?" "Yes." "Then I shall lie down now, and you can call me when it's twelve o'clock." "But I shan't know when it is," protested Dexter. "Well, I ain't particular," said Bob, stretching himself beneath the tree. "Guess what you think's fair half, and I'll get up then." "But will you get up!" said Dexter. "Of course I will, if you call loud enough. There, don't bother, I'm ever so tired with rowing, and I shall go to sleep at once." Bob kept his word as soon as darkness had set in, and Dexter sat listening to the lapping of the water, and wondered whether, if they camped out like this in a foreign land, crocodiles would come out of the rivers and attack them. He sat down, for he soon grew tired of standing and walking about, and listened to Bob's heavy breathing, for the boy had gone off at once. It was very dark under the trees, and he could only see the glint of a star from time to time. It felt cold too, but as he drew himself close together with his chin down upon his knees he soon forgot that, and began thinking about the two owls he had heard the past night. Then he thought about the long-legged herons he had seen fishing in the water; then about their own fishing, and what capital fish the smelts were. From that he began to think about hunting out the cray-fish from the banks, and how one of the little things had nipped his fingers quite sharply. Next he began to wonder what Helen Grayson thought about him, and what the doctor had said, and whether he should ever see them again, and whether he should like Bob any better after a time, when camping out with him, and how long it would be before they reached one of the beautiful hot countries, where you could gather cocoa-nuts off the trees and watch the lovely birds as they flitted round. And then he thought about how long it would be before he might venture to call Bob. And then he began thinking about nothing at all. When he opened his eyes next it was morning, with the sun shining brightly, and the birds singing, and Bob Dimsted had just kicked him in the side. "Here, I say, wake up," he cried. "Why, you've been to sleep." "Have I!" said Dexter sheepishly, as he stared helplessly at his companion. "Have yer? Yes; of course yer have," cried Bob angrily. "Ain't to be trusted for a moment. You're always a-going to sleep. Whatcher been and done with that there boat!" _ |
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