‘No, I guess not,’ said Pud. His tone, though, suggested that he was not greatly interested in his chum’s remarks. He rowed on, his strokes growing weaker, and then suddenly he swung the skiff’s nose toward the bank. ‘What you doing?’ asked Tim. ‘Look out, or――’ ‘I’m going back,’ said Pud firmly. ‘I’m just not going to let them have her, Tim!’ He backed water and headed the skiff upstream as he spoke. ‘No, sir, they can’t do that to me! I――I won’t let ’em!’ ‘Well――well――’ sputtered Tim in alarm. ‘Well, what can you do, Pud? My gracious goodness, we can’t go back there and have them shoot us like they said they would, Pud! Why, my goodness――’ ‘How you know they got a gun?’ asked Harmon from the bow. ‘I ain’ seen no gun.’ ‘They’ve got one, all right,’ insisted Tim. ‘And they wouldn’t hesitate to use it, I guess!’ ‘That’s all right,’ said Pud, rowing hard again. ‘I’m not asking you to get shot, Tim. I don’t intend to let them see me, but I’m going to find out where my boat is, and if they leave it alone a minute I bet I’ll get it back!’ ‘Yes, but――but now you look here, Pud Pringle! The best way to do is go right on down to――to somewhere and tell the police about it! Gosh, I guess it won’t take the police long to get your launch back!’ ‘Maybe it won’t take me long, neither,’ answered Pud grimly. ‘All I’m asking those fellows to do is just leave it alone for about two minutes. That’s all I’m asking them!’ ‘Well, yes, but――but how do you know where they’ve gone? My goodness, Pud, we can’t row all over this old swamp looking for them! And suppose they take it into Swamp Hole! I guess it wouldn’t be very healthy to follow them in there!’ ‘I’m going back where they put us out,’ said Pud resolutely, ‘and see if it’s still there. If it isn’t I’m going to row until――’ But he paused there. ‘Well, anyway, I’m going to find my boat,’ he concluded a trifle lamely. Tim was silent, torn between his loyalty to Pud and a strong and growing disinclination to present himself as a target to the blood-thirsty Cocker. Harmon said wistfully, more to himself than the others: ‘Wish I had my good ol’ knife!’