“Let me come aboard!” I gasped,—­“that man—­”

But I was too much winded to say anything more.  With some difficulty—­for I had been swimming harder than was necessary—­I crawled into the tender, and sat down to get my breath.  As I sat there, one of the boys said: 

“Why, that’s Mr. Snider!”

Then he pulled the tender alongside, and I stepped on board the “Hoppergrass.”

“Now, I know why you were running,” said he,—­“anyone would run to get away from Snider.  Has he been advising you to be good?”

“He’s been trying to—­I don’t know what.  Kill me, I guess.  Do you know him?”

“Don’t we!” they both exclaimed together.

And then the one at the wheel said:  “Has he g-got his g-gold machine here?”

“Yes,” I said, “he and another man.  They’re a couple of crooks, and they’re cheating people out of stacks of money.  How did you know him?”

“Oh, he’s b-been at the house.  But after the first t-time we always s-skun out, over the back f-fence when we heard he was coming.  Mr. Chick brought him,—­to talk b-business with F-Father.”

The “Hoppergrass,” still sailing slowly, had drawn near the point of land at the entrance of the little bay.  Mr. Snider, who had walked a few steps along the shore, stood near this point,—­ watching us.  We passed so near him that I could easily have hit him with a base-ball, if I had had one, and felt so inclined.  It was curious to be so near a man who, five minutes earlier, had been chasing me with a club.  He was still clasping and unclasping his hands nervously, but he said nothing, and neither did we.  After about half a minute he turned, and hurried through the trees in the direction of the house.

“I think I’ll get some dry clothes,” said I, starting toward the cabin.  Then I stopped,—­it occurred to me that there were some questions to be asked.  Up to this moment I had been so glad to get away from Mr. Snider, and to find the boat again, that I had thought of nothing else.

“Say—­look here—­you know,—­how do you happen to be on this boat, anyhow?  Where’s Captain Bannister?”

Both the boys turned red, and looked silly.  They were twins evidently,—­exactly the same size, and almost precisely alike in the face.  Each of them had bright red hair, a great many freckles, and a snub nose.

“Are you one of the fellows that was on this boat?” asked one of them.

“Yes,” said I. And I told them my name.  “That’s my shirt you’ve got on, by the way.”

“T-t-tell him about it, S-S-Spike,” said the one at the wheel.

“Tell him yourself!” growled the other.

“W-Well,” said the steersman, giving the wheel a twist, “you s-see... you s-see... oh!  I can’t t-tell him,—­it makes me s-stutter so d-darned much!”

“Go ahead!” returned Spike.