The only reason we didn't break him into kindling wood at once, was because we couldn't. Our will was good enough.
"Get away from here," said Wanderer. (That was the name of Mr. Swan's boat. He had always lived and worked in the company of gentlemen, and he did not like to occupy close quarters with so disreputable a fellow as the scow.)
"Get away from here yourself," was the report. "I was here first, an' I'm going to stay."
"I'll bet you will," said Bushboy. (That was the name of the boat Joe and his chums hired at Indian Lake.) "But you may be sure of one thing: You will stay a wreck."
"That's so," said I. "Joe Wayring will never go away leaving him above the water. He'll break him up so completely that his thief of a master won't know him if he should happen along this way again."
"He will never come this way again until he is on his road to jail," said Wanderer. "Mr. Swan is after him, and he's going to catch him, too."
