the line was unfastened and passed over to Joe, who was about to go down again, when his movements were arrested by the snapping of twigs and the sound of voices which came from the depths of the woods. They were angry voices, too, and rendered somewhat indistinct by distance and intervening bushes, but the boys recognized them at once.
"There comes Matt Coyle, his wife and both their boys," said Joe. "Now we shall hear something."
"I wonder what they think they are going to do," said Roy. "Just listen to the noise they make in crashing through the brush. One would think there were a lot of wild cattle in there."
Joe Wayring did not await their appearance, but went down to reeve the line through a ring-bolt in the stern-post of the sunken canoe, and to bring up her painter and the side of bacon. When he arose to the surface Matt Coyle and his family were striding up and down the bank, shaking their fists and swearing lustily.
"That there is my hog-meat, too," roared
