“If we rushed him all at once, the three of us,” said Dick, “we could get aboard all right. You know very well he wouldn’t dare shoot at us.” But Chub shook his head. “He’s such an old sour-face, he’s likely to do anything. What do you say, Roy?” “I’ll risk it if the rest of you will,” he said, angrily. “I’d like to throw him into the water.” “A bath wouldn’t do him any harm,” said Chub, “unless he caught cold from it. But I’ve got a better scheme, I think. We can’t afford to let the constable find us here. If he does it’ll take a week to convince him that we aren’t robbers. Now, listen. I’ll go back through the woods as though I was going to the road. You fellows stay here and if he asks where I’ve gone tell him I’ve gone to look for the constable. When I get out of sight I’ll get some of my things off and sneak down to the river again on the other side of the point. Then I’ll swim back quietly and get aboard on the other side. He won’t be able to see me and you fellows mustn’t look at me because he might catch on.” “But what are you going to do when you get aboard?” asked Roy dubiously. Chub’s brown eyes twinkled merrily. “You leave that to me,” he said. “Come to think of it, you fellows had better go back to the boat in about a couple of minutes and when you see me coming get him talking; see? Make all the pow-wow you can, so he won’t hear me. If he should hear me and go around the other side to see what’s up, you fellows jump on board in a hurry. Got that?” “Yes,” answered Roy, “but you--you be careful, Chub.” “It’ll be a long swim, won’t it?” asked Dick, anxiously. “I won’t have to swim at all,” said Chub. “I’ll just float down with the current. I’m off.” He got up and started aimlessly into the woods in the direction of the road. They watched him go. So did the farmer. “Hey, where’s he going?” he called. “Says he’s going to look for your friend, the constable,” answered Dick, carelessly. “Ain’t no use in you running away,” said Mr. Ewing. “We’ll get ye.” “Well, you don’t see us running away, do you?” asked Roy, haughtily. “We haven’t done anything to run away for.” “Don’t you suppose we might fix those ropes so’s we can let go in a hurry?” asked Dick, softly. “We can try it,” responded Roy, with a glance toward the river beyond the point. “Wait a minute longer. Then we’ll go down there. Maybe we can loosen the knots a bit.” He looked anxiously at his watch. It showed the hour to be ten minutes to nine. “I hope that constable doesn’t take it into his head to appear for a few minutes yet.” “So do I. Shall we go now?” “Yes, come along.” They got up and sauntered back to where the _Slow Poke_ lay, Mr. Ewing eying them suspiciously. The boat was moored fore and aft to two trees growing near the bank. When they reached the first one Roy stopped and started to undo the knot, while Dick kept on.