No sooner was he out of the way than the men on shore began firing at the flatboat. They had refrained prior to that time, apparently, lest they should hit their comrade, for such he manifestly was. Their firing was at long range, however, and it was now nearly dark. The swift current soon carried the boat wholly beyond reach of rifle-shots and out into the river. Lest the desperadoes on shore should follow in skiffs or otherwise, Phil ordered the boys to the sweeps again, and kept them there until they had driven the boat well over toward the opposite shore. Then he summoned a council of war. [Illustration: THE FIGHT WITH THE PILOT. “A minute later they had their prisoner securely tied.”] “What are we going to do with that fellow?” he asked. “Well,” said Ed, “you have got him well tied and--” “Yes, but,” said Irv, “have we any right to tie him? He hasn’t committed any crime.” “Yes, he has,” said Phil. “At least, we caught him in the act of committing one. He was trying to steal one of Perry Raymond’s skiffs. That’s worth twenty-five dollars. If he hadn’t anything worse in his mind, his attempt on the skiff was grand larceny.” “That’s so,” said Ed, “and we can turn him over to a magistrate at the first landing for that.” “I don’t think I shall make any landing,” said Phil, “until we get to Memphis, and in the meantime I am going to know all there is to know about this fellow. When he came on board he had his hair shaved close with a barber’s mowing-machine, but, unfortunately for him, he didn’t bring one of the machines with him. His hair is growing out again now, and I have been comparing several of its little peculiarities closely with descriptions and portraits in the newspapers I got at Cairo of the fellow who is running away with that swag. Boys, I believe we have got the man.” Phil’s comrades were positively dumb with astonishment. At last the silence was broken. “If we have,” said Irv Strong, “this voyage will pay, for the rewards offered for this man are very heavy.” “Yes,” said Phil; “I hadn’t thought of that, but that’s so. There are five thousand dollars on his capture.” Just then there was a flash in the dark from the cabin scuttle, and a bullet whistled over the heads of the boys. Jim Hughes had managed to extricate himself, in part at least, from his bonds, and had begun to use a weapon which he had doubtless hidden before that time, and of which the boys had known nothing. Ed was the first to act. He was always exceedingly quick to think. He called to the boys to follow him, and, disregarding Jim’s fusillade, ran to the scuttle.