Though George had not seemed very friendly, Robert did not for a moment doubt that he would be willing to help him in his strait, and he was almost as delighted to see him as he would have been to see Herbert himself. There would be no need now of the raft, and he gladly suspended work upon it. Rising to his feet, he called out: “Hello, there!” George paused in his rowing and asked--for he had not yet caught sight of Robert: “Who calls?” “I--Robert Coverdale!” Then George, turning his glance in the right direction, caught sight of the boy he had tried to snub in the morning. CHAPTER X ROBERT COMPLETES THE RAFT “What do you want of me?” asked George superciliously. “Will you come to shore and take me into your boat?” asked Robert eagerly. “Why should I? You have no claims on me,” said George. “Indeed, I don’t know you.” “I was at Mr. Irving’s this morning, playing croquet with Herbert.” “I am aware of that, but that is no reason why I should take you into my boat. I prefer to be alone.” If Robert had not been in such a strait he would not have pressed the request, but he was not sure when there would be another chance to leave the island, and he persisted. “You don’t understand how I am situated,” he said. “I wouldn’t ask such a favor if I were not obliged to, but I have no other way of getting back. If you don’t take me in, I shall probably be obliged to stay here all night.” “How did you come here?” asked George, his curiosity aroused. “I came in a boat with my uncle.” “Then you can go back with him.” “He has gone back already. He is offended with me because I won’t do something which he has no right to ask, and he has left me here purposely.” “Isn’t your uncle a fisherman?” “Yes.” “I don’t care to associate with a fisherman’s boy,” said George. Robert had never before met a boy so disagreeable as George, and his face flushed with anger and mortified pride. “I don’t think you are any better than Herbert,” he said, “and he is willing to associate with me, though I am a fisherman’s boy.” “I don’t think much of his taste, and so I told him,” said George. “My father is richer than Mr. Irving,” he added proudly. “Do you refuse to take me in your boat then?” asked Robert. “I certainly do.” “Although I may be compelled to stay here all night?” “That’s nothing to me.” Robert was silent a moment. He didn’t like to have any quarrel with Herbert’s cousin, but he was a boy of spirit, and he could not let George leave without giving vent to his feeling. “George Randolph,” he broke out, “I don’t care whether your father is worth a million; it doesn’t make you a gentleman. You are a mean, contemptible fellow!” “How dare you talk to me in that way, you young fisherman?” gasped George in astonishment and wrath. “Because I think it will do you good to hear the truth,” said Robert hotly. “You are the meanest fellow I ever met, and if I were Herbert Irving I’d pack you back to the city by the first train.”