"Gentlemen," said the officer, addressing the passengers, "you'll have to go across in some other boat. I want this ferry-boy."
Sam comprehended the situation in an instant; and he was smart enough to know that every thing depended upon the manner in which he behaved himself during the next few minutes. He had all the while been satisfied that the fisher-boy would make a "powerful fuss," as soon as he discovered his loss, and Sam had so often gone over the part he intended to perform, that he could act it quite naturally. Upon hearing the words uttered by the constable, he looked up with an expression of astonishment and alarm that would have staggered almost any one; and which went a long way toward convincing the officer that he had got hold of the wrong man, and that he would be obliged to look further for the culprit.
"Come ashore with that boat, Sam," said the constable. "I am in a great hurry!"
"Do you want me, Mr. Grimes?" asked the bully, with well-feigned amazement. "What have I been a doin'?"
"No nonsense, now, but come ashore with that boat," repeated the officer, sternly.
Sam did not carry matters too far, as a great many guilty boys would have done, but without further parley, he brought his yawl alongside the wharf, and assisted his passengers to climb out. Then turning to one of the ferry-boys, and requesting to keep an eye on his boat during his absence, he clambered upon the wharf and stood before the constable. The latter looked him squarely in the eye for a moment, as if trying to read his very thoughts, and then said, slowly:
"Now, why don't you tell me what I've been a doin'?" asked Sam, never once flinching before the officer's steady gaze. "I haint been a doin' nothin'!"
"You know better," said the constable, savagely. "Where's that boat you stole from Bob Jennings last night? What have you done with it?"
Upon hearing this question, Sam stepped back as suddenly as if the constable had aimed a blow at him, and, opening his eyes and puffing out his cheeks, he stood looking at the officer as if he could scarcely believe that he had heard aright. Then he turned and looked at Bob; and one short glance was sufficient to convince him that his last night's work had ruined the fisher-boy as completely as he could have desired. Bob's face was very pale, and wore such a hopeless, despairing expression, that Sam could scarcely refrain from manifesting his exultation.