On and on sped the rowboat, making excellent progress on the
smooth-flowing river. About a mile was covered, and they swept
around first one bend and then another.

"I see a boat ahead!" roared the farmer. "She's gone now," he
added, as the craft shot behind some bushes, at a point along
the river.

The four young oarsmen increased their stroke, and soon gained
the point. Then the boat again came into full view and they could
see that it was their own craft and that the colored man was rowing
along at a good rate of speed.

"There he is!" was the cry.

"Pull, boys, pull!" called out Snap.

They did pull, and soon came closer to the craft ahead. Then
the negro chanced to look back and saw them. He was evidently
chagrined, and with out delay turned in toward shore, close to
where the trees grew thick.

"Stop!" cried Shep. "Stop, you rascal!"

But the negro paid no attention, excepting to renew his efforts
to reach the river bank. He sent the rowboat in among the bushes
with a loud swish, and hopped ashore. Then the other boat came
up.