“We have learned what became of that nigger.”

“What?”

“He took our boat and ran off with it.”

“Well, I vow!  Ain’t he the pesky rascal, though!  Wot be yeou boys a-goin’ tew do neow?”

“We want to get another boat, if possible, and follow him.  Do you know where a boat can be had?”

“Yes; Ike Welby has a boat.  His farm is the next one down from mine.  I’ll go along.  I want to catch him ez much as yeou do.”

In a few minutes they were off in a body, all of the boys accompanying the farmer to the next farm.  Ike Welby was not at home, but his wife said they could have the boat and welcome, and procured for them two pairs of oars from the barn.

“I am glad that negro didn’t come here,” she declared.  “I should have fainted dead away, too, and he would have gotten everything in the house.  I trust you catch the rascal.”

“We be a-goin’ to try mighty hard,” answered Simon Lundy.

There was a small boathouse at the end of the grounds and here was a good round-bottomed boat built for speed as well as pleasure, for in his younger days Ike Welby had been quite an oarsman and had won more than one race.  They ran the rowboat into the river, and all jumped in.  Then Snap shoved off, and all of the boys got at the oars.

“Now, then, to make things hum!” said Shep.  “We must try to spot that nigger before he thinks of going ashore.”

CHAPTER V

ANOTHER START

The four young hunters were used to rowing together, so they made rapid progress when once they had caught the stroke.  Simon Lundy sat in the stern of the craft, gazing anxiously ahead.

“The wuss o’ it is he’s got sech a tarnal good start of us,” remarked the farmer.  “He must be a mile away by this time.”

“Never mind, we’ll catch him before long, if he sticks to the river,” said Snap, confidently.

“Wisht I had brung a gun along.”

“Yes, that would have been a good thing,” was Shep’s comment.  “And that reminds me,” he added to his chums, “all of our weapons were left in the rowboat.”

“Yes; and the nigger is well supplied with guns and pistols,” came from Whopper.  “Maybe he will try to shoot us full of a million holes when he spots us.”

“Oh, deary me!  Don’t say thet!” groaned Simon Lundy.  “I—–­I don’t want to be shot at, not me!”

“He won’t dare to shoot!” said Giant.  “We can pretend that we are all armed, you know.”

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.