"We'll see about that later on." "Maybe you want us to help you." "We shan't ask you for the favor," burst out Sam. "I'd rather drown first." But Sam did not exactly mean this. He and his brothers could all swim, and he felt certain that they were in no immediate danger of their lives. "You had better not ask any favors. I wouldn't pick you up for a barrel of money." "I think we'll have to settle this in court, Mumps," said Dick, as quietly as he could. "You can't prove I ran you down." "Don't you dare to have us hauled up," put in Bill Goss. "It was an accident, jest as John says. I reckon as how it will teach ye a lesson not to follow us ag'in." By this time the two yachts were once more so far apart that talking from one to the other became difficult. Besides this, the Rover boys felt that they must turn their whole attention to the _Spray_, so no more was said. The yacht had been struck just at the water line and the hole made in her side was all of six inches in diameter. Through this the water was pouring into the hold at a lively rate. "We're going down as sure as guns," groaned Tom. "Steer her right for the shore, Sam." This was done, and just as the _Spray_ began to settle they ran upon a muddy and rocky flat about thirty feet from the river bank proper. "There, we can't go down now," said Dick, with something of a sigh of relief. "Let us lower the mainsail and jib before the wind sends us over on our beam ends." The others understood the value of the advice, and soon the mainsail of the yacht came down with a bang, and the jib followed. The _Spray_ seemed inclined to list to port, but stopped settling when her deck line touched the surface of the river. "That settles yachting for the present," said Dick in deep disgust. "And the worst of it is, we haven't even a small boat to go ashore in," added Sam. "What's to do?" "There is a rowboat putting out from the shore now," cried Tom. "Hullo, there!" he shouted, and waved his hand. The shout was returned, and the rowboat was headed, in their direction. As it came closer they saw that its occupant was a middle-aged man of pleasant appearance. "So you had a smash-up, eh?" shouted the man, as soon as he came near. "Anybody hurt?" "Our boat is hurt," answered Tom dryly. "Much of a hole?" "Big enough to put us on the bottom." "So I see. Want me to take you ashore?" "Yes," put in Dick, "if you will be kind enough to do it." "Certainly; always willing to aid anybody in distress. That other craft run you down in short order, didn't she?" "Did you see it?" burst out Sam eagerly. "To be sure I did." "Then you know it was her fault." "I do. She had no right to follow you up as she did." "I'm glad you saw the mix-up, Mr..." "Martin Harris is my name. I'm an old boatman around here--keep boats to hire, and the like. And who is this I'm to take ashore?" "My name is Sam Rover. These are my two brothers, Dick and Tom."