"That's jest how it is. He won't give me nothin', and says he won't," added Tom. "If you choose to larrup him on your own account, it is none of my business," continued Walk. "Of course it isn't," Ham Jackson chimed in. "I should like to pay that fellow off for the few cracks he gave me, but they go to law on this side, and it isn't safe." "Of course I can lick him if I want to, and 't ain't nobody's business," added Tom, who thought he was very cunning. "I guess I understand you, and you understand me. About next Saturday night at Sandy Point, say." The coxswain's call summoned them to the boat, and they parted from Tom Topover. The latter believed he had made a square bargain with Walk Billcord, and ten dollars would take him to New York and pay his way till he could ship in a "pirate vessel." He meant a pilot-boat, for he had heard some one talking about one of these brisk little schooners a few days before. Since that interview Tom had watched the school grounds all the time. Paul lived on the point, and he could catch him alone there some evening. He had built the queer craft for use in his great enterprise. He had seen the Sylph go down the river in the morning, and he intended to put his scheme in operation that evening. Paul often sat on the rocks about dark, and the opportunity would not be wanting. While he was nailing the logs together on the other side of the creek, a little way up, he saw Paul in his flatboat. Then it seemed to him that the son of toil was as good as bagged. He was absolutely sure he could handle him, in spite of the experience of the kid-glove chaps on the other side. But Tom was cunning in his own estimation. Paul was going to Westport, and it was safer to do the job near Sandy Point than on the school premises. He could hardly help bullying, but he refrained as soon as he thought what he was doing; and half an hour later he embarked in the flatboat with his victim. CHAPTER XXVII. THE BRILLIANT STRATEGY OF THE BRUISER. That cunning Tom Topover was actually behaving himself in something like a civilized manner, in his desire not to alarm his victim. Just now he was engaged in a strategetic enterprise, and found it necessary to display only the fur side of his nature, though even that was very like the bristles of a pig. He did his best, which was not saying much, to keep on the right side of his intended victim. But Paul was a good-natured fellow, and it was an easy matter to conciliate him. The son of toil rowed down the river, and crossing the shoal water of Field's Bay, took a straight course for his destination. Tom sat at the stern, and did not seem to be as much inclined to talk as he had been immediately after the wreck of the queer craft. In fact, he was turning over in his mind sundry cunning propositions, to accomplish the purpose for which he had embarked in the present venture.