“Get it, Thad,” said Maurice, in a low tone, not wishing to take his eye off the trio of desperadoes for a moment, not knowing what they might attempt, for if ever he had seen jailbirds loose it was just then.

So Thad stepped around the cabin and took down the big “buffalo” that was hanging by a cord so that the night air would keep it in decent condition; it had come in on one of his lines that afternoon, and they really had little use for such a quantity of fish; indeed, both boys were already a little tired of a diet of the products of the river, and yearned for different fare.

The darky ashore caught the finny prize, and his eyes glistened at its size; but Maurice knew full well that this act of benevolence on their part would not serve to protect them a particle from the thieving propensities of the nomads if a chance were given to purloin anything.

In ten minutes they could see a fire up on the point of land and hear the loud voices of the three blacks disputing over various things—­evidently they were a noisy crowd, and the prospects for a quiet night did not loom up very brilliantly.  Maurice listened and his brow clouded over.

“I don’t like the prospect a little bit, Thad,” he remarked, as a louder burst of profanity than usual marked a near fight above.

“We’re in for a tough night, it seems,” sighed his chum, dismally.

“Oh! as to that, I don’t know.  It all depends whether we have the nerve to cut the Gordian knot,” observed Maurice, grimly.

His friend looked hastily at him, for the fire was still burning fitfully on the shore, though robbed of its best brands by the negroes.

“What dye think of doing—­running those critters off—­gee, it’s a big proposition for a couple of boys, Maurice.”

“The running’s all right, but you get the cart before the horse.  It’s us who are to do the skipping, while they enjoy that fish a little later.  All depends on whether we care to take the chances of floating down a mile or two further in the dark, and finding a place to tie up.  If we don’t it’s a case of floating on all night, and running the risk of a collision.”

“I say go.  Why, we’ve got an anchor, you know, and the current ain’t so very swift near shore but what it’d hold when we chose to drop her over.  If we stay here one of us has to be on guard all night, and even then I believe those black jailbirds would be ugly enough to try and burn us up or something like that—­steal our pumpkin-seed boat perhaps.  Yes, I’m in favor of cutting loose,” declared Thad, eagerly.

“All right; consider it settled.  We’ll just wait until we think they’re busy with the fish and then one of us must go ashore while the other covers him with the gun, and undo the line from those rocks.  After that it will be easy.”

Half an hour passed away.

Then, as the sounds had died out above, they fancied the trio of unwelcome neighbors must be busily employed in eating, so Thad volunteered to drop ashore and get the rope loose from its anchorage.