"Not exactly; but if you insist upon using that ugly word, I am only going to rob you of what you stole from my uncle," replied Dory, as he put the pocket-book into the inside of his vest. Without another word, the desperate chief rushed upon Dory, and made an effort to upset him by lying down upon him, and kicking his shins. Of course he could not accomplish any thing, though he made his captor dance a jig in his attempts to escape the savage kicks of his prisoner. But he was soon tired of this fruitless labor, and he stood still again. It looked as though he had just begun to understand that Dory was in earnest, and that he had lost the battle. Both of them looked at each other, and then out upon the lake, which could be seen across the neck of land. The La Motte had got up her anchor, and under a reefed foresail was standing towards the shore. When Angy saw her, he gave a yell that could be heard half a mile. His companions heard him, and immediately headed the schooner in the direction from which the cry had come. One of those on board gave an answering yell. "It is useless to wait for her," said Dory, who would not have denied that he felt some anxiety. "I think I shall wait for her," replied Angy. "You will have to wait till the end of the year, then; for that schooner will be aground in less than five minutes if she keeps on that course." One of the burglars was at the bow, sounding. The vessel was within the eighth of a mile of the shore. Suddenly she came about, and the anchor was let go. They had found they could come no nearer to the shore. Then they began to shout the name of Angy. "I think we won't wait here any longer," said Dory, placing his hand on the collar of his prisoner. "I think we will," replied Angy, as he began to kick again. Dory was obliged to knock him down again. Taking hold of his coat-collar with both hands, he dragged him away from the inlet. By taking frequent rests, he succeeded in moving him out of hailing-distance of the schooner, though he could just hear the yells of the robbers on board of her. Angy did not yell any more. The mode of transportation adopted by Dory was not an agreeable one, and Angy promised to walk if his captor would allow him to get up. "You have knocked the skin all off my legs," said he, as Dory assisted him to rise. "I want you to understand that I am going to take you to the Beech Hill Industrial School, Angy, and if you get hurt on the way, it will be your own fault," said Dory impressively. "I can't stand being dragged like a dead snake, and I will walk," answered Angy. "But you don't mean that you are going to hand me over to old Squalipop?" "I am going to hand you over to Captain Gildrock, the principal of our school." "But this was nothing but a lark on the part of our fellows, the members of the Nautifelers Club. We are up here to have some fun; and you ought not to make a serious thing of it," said Angy, trying to be amiable again.