He was confident that the two boys had not come to the village after setting the fire; for they would have met the people on their way to it. He came to the conclusion that they had taken to the woods for the night, and that they would depart by the first train in the morning; for the loss of Swikes’s money indicated they were well supplied with funds. He set the men to searching the country between the river and the road; and, about one o’clock, they came to the creek. One of the men occasionally used the boat, and he missed it. Looking down the river, he saw the sail of the “Mud-turtle,” which had not been under way more than half an hour. The man did not see the captain till two hours after he made this discovery; for he was following the river road in his buggy for several miles, thinking it was possible that the runaways might have walked to the next town. When he learned that the boat was gone, he gave up the search for that night; but early in the morning he was at the house of Obed Swikes, and they had taken the first train for the south, which had arrived just as the boat came to Rivermouth, the village where the railroad crossed the river. The pursuers had not deemed it wise to show themselves, lest the boys should attempt to escape. They watched the boat, intending to follow it as soon as they could learn where it was going. When Wade put her about, and stood up the river, they had followed on the railroad. As soon as it was made fast to the shore, they were ready to take possession of the boat and its crew. Capt. Trustleton was not a little alarmed when he saw the fierce battle that was in progress in the standing-room. Neither he nor Swikes had expected to find Wade Brooks with the fugitives, for they were not on good terms the day before; and certainly their relations did not appear to be any more friendly than then. “What are you choking my boy for, you villain?” demanded Capt. Trustleton, springing into the boat, catching Wade Brooks by the collar, and shaking him up very thoroughly. Wade thought he could handle the son, but he did not care to contend with the father. When the captain had shaken him to his heart’s content, he pitched him over into one corner of the standing-room. Wade picked himself up, and, stepping upon the forward deck, placed a respectful distance between himself and the angry father. “What on airth are you a-doin’ here, Wade Brooks?” added Swikes,--“fightin’ too?” “Do you want to kill my boy?” demanded Capt. Trustleton. “He begun it; and that was the second time he pitched into me to-day,” pleaded Wade. “I won’t stand it to have him hammer me whenever he takes a notion to do so.” “He pounded me almost to death with a club this morning,” whined Lon, when he had picked himself up. “What did you pitch into him for?” asked his father, who seemed to have some faith in Wade’s report. “He’s always interfering with me,” answered Lon, who was not disposed to give the true reason for his attack.