The boy rose awkwardly, as if to go. “Well,” said Joe, anxiously, “I’ve hired out to him now, you know. What would you do about it if you was in my place?” The big boy sat down again more awkwardly, if possible, than he had risen. “I’ll tell ye jest what I would do,” he began earnestly. But he never told what it was, and Joe never had the benefit of his advice; for at that moment the bony figure of Captain Bill appeared at the corner of the shed. The jaw of the large boy dropped suddenly, and jumping up from the box he made his escape to the tow-path. “You’d better git!” shouted the man angrily after him. “What’d he say to ye?” he demanded, turning to Joe. “He said,” stammered Joe, “he said that he used to work for you.” “Did ’e say I used to lick ’im an’ kick ’im, an’ try to knock some sense into ’im?” “Why, yes; something like that.” “Well, I did, an’ I’ll do the same to you ef ye don’t ’ten’ closer to business. Come! Git out there to them horses! See w’ere they’re a-goin’! Jest look at that tow-line!” The man’s look and manner were so fierce that Joe dared not even reply. He hurried out to his disagreeable task with a sinking heart, and began to draw up the tow-line, which had slipped under the boat, and which, after much scolding on Captain Bill’s part, was straightened out. The boat was “locked through” at last, and not long after Blixey called up that dinner was ready. The captain ate first, while Blixey minded the tiller. Then Blixey ate, and afterward relieved Joe on the tow-path. There was not much left when the boy reached the table,--not nearly enough to satisfy his hunger. But Captain Bill stood at the rudder-post looking fiercely down the hatchway at him, and when he had eaten what was on the table he dared not ask for more. “Wash them dishes!” ordered the captain. Joe washed the dishes, put them away on the shelves, and then went up on deck. The light rain of the morning had settled into a steady downpour, and the boat was drenched. “Here!” said Captain Bill, “you come here. Now take a-holt o’ this tiller, an’ push it as I tell ye to.” Joe grasped the tiller, and the man went back and began to pump water from the hold. “Pull it to ye!” shouted the captain, as the boy, wondering how it worked, allowed the tiller to swing slowly from him. “Pull it to ye, I say! Can’t ye see where the boat’s a-goin’?” Joe pulled; but it was no easy matter to check the impetus of the rudder in the opposite direction, and the boat still swung stern away. “Pull!” shouted the man. “Don’t stand there like a stick o’ wood. Pull!” The boy was pulling with all his might, but as yet without avail. Captain Bill dropped the pump-rod and sprang to the tiller. Seizing it on the opposite side from where Joe stood, he thrust it violently outward, pushing Joe with it, backing him across the deck, backing him relentlessly till the edge of the boat was reached. The boy to save himself from the water was obliged to turn and leap toward shore.