Bob saw that it would be useless to crave further for mercy, and he remained sulky and silent; but Jim looked in vain to see him blubber. No; in everything except age Bob was an orthodox villain; and an orthodox villain never whimpers when his schemes topple about his ears. On account of his youth and inexperience, he had not provided himself with poison in the event of failure—nay, he did not even attempt to roll off the raft into the river.

“This is rather a home-made rabbit-house, eh, Will?” Marmaduke observed, inclining his head towards the cage.

“It’s kindy weak,” Jim chimed in. “It looks strong enough to hold me, but it keeps cracking every minute.”

“Hush!” breathed Will.

He had many fine qualities. Even at his early age, he could respect the feelings of a fallen foe.

“Hello there, Steve,” he said, as they drew near the group of three. “I killed Tip, but I’ve saved Carlo, so my mind is easy.”

The three returned Will’s grin of pleasure with a shout of applause. So eager were they to welcome the victors that they tore off their boots and stockings, rolled their pants nearly up to their knees, and waded out till the water was two or three inches above their knees. Youth manifests its enthusiasm very recklessly at times.

At this moment Will experienced some of the triumph of a conquering hero.

“Now, Bob,” Charles began, as they floated the raft into its harbor; “now, Bob, you will be tried by us for your misdoings.”

“He has surely had punishment enough; let him go;” said tender-hearted George, sitting down on the bank and looking pityingly at the wild-eyed captive.

“Yes, Steve; let him go; for how on earth can we punish him?” Will supplemented.

[246]

“No!” Charles said resolutely. “The boy who can float another boy’s dog over these falls is a scoundrel, and—”

“I never did!” Bob here put in.

“And,” continued Charles, “he ought to be court-martialed!”

Bob did not know what this meant; neither did Charles; the former looked awe-struck, the latter, wise and august.

Steve, however, added promptly: “Of course. His father must have court-plastered him the other night for his bruises; and now we must court-martial him for his wickedness.”

“Well,” said Marmaduke, seating himself with great composure, “I am going to be neutral.”

Poor boy, he thought “neutral” had an imposing look in his history, and he would seize this opportunity to illustrate its beauties.

With that, the entire six sat down in a circle around the raft. Charles and Stephen were resolved on punishment. Jim also. For some reason, George and Will were in favor of pardon.

“Well, boys,” said Will, “of course you can do what you like, but I believe I should let him go—box, and rope, and straps, and all. I perished poor Tip, but I’ve rescued Carlo, and I’m satisfied.”

No doubt Will thought this a very genteel expression. Not so Marmaduke: he sprang to his feet with a gesture of surprise, and said earnestly, “Oh, Will! perish is a neuter verb!”

Will flushed, and moved uneasily from right to left.

“What is all this nonsense about neuters and neutrals?” Steve asked, angrily. “What do we care about your neuters? Botheration, you boys have put off this trial long enough. But,” with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “tell us what a neuter verb is; and then, I hope, we may go on.”

Marmaduke was ill prepared for such a question, and he was never prompt in giving explanations. His face blanched, he sank dejectedly to the ground, took off his[247] hat and toyed with it nervously; took out his handkerchief and feebly tried to blow his nose; looked appealingly at the Sage; and at last began, hesitatingly: “Well, hem, Steve, Stephen, I’m afraid I can hardly make it clear to you, because—because—well, you know, Stephen, you don’t understand grammar very well. Well, perish—but,” brightening and rising, “I’ll just illustrate it for you. Now, you see, I’m standing up. Well,” suiting the action to the word, “I sit down when I go to the ground; but,” suiting the action to the word, “I set down my hat—or you, or any other boy, or a thing, or a word in a book.”

Marmaduke put on his hat and picked up and pocketed his handkerchief with the air of a man who has triumphed.

“Yes,” Steve admitted, “you make it pretty plain, Marmaduke; but these neuter verbs, and conjunctions, and things, were always a muddle to me. But,” guilelessly, “tell me this, and then we must attend to Bob: Is it right to say, I sit myself down, or I set myself down?”

Poor Marmaduke! He was struck dumb; he had a new view of neuter verbs. A look of woe that would have melted a heart of stone passed over his face. He arose and took a seat where Steve could not see him, muttering confusedly: “A neuter verb can’t do anything, but active verbs do.”

Stephen chuckled: “I always knew those rules in the grammar wouldn’t work both ways.”

Charles and Will did not seem inclined to help Marmaduke out of his difficulty—probably they were as much puzzled as he. As for George, he was not at all disconcerted: when he understood a thing, he knew that he understood it. He looked on with supreme indifference, not thinking it worth while to give his views.

“See how Bob behaved himself the night of the experiment,” Charles observed, coming back to the matter in hand. “He will always be trying to do us some harm if we let him off this time.”

“Yes,” chimed in Steve, glancing at the helpless captive, who was still on the raft, “we let him go that night and see how he has rewarded us for our mercy!”

[248]

“You wouldn’t have let him escape if it hadn’t been for me;” Will corrected.

“We didn’t hunt him down the next day, as we might have done!” Steve rejoined, as though that settled the question.

“I hope we are hardly such a set of cold-blooded fellows as that!” George said. “And besides what great harm did he do that night?”

“Oh, you, George Andrews!” Stephen retorted wrathfully. “I suppose you think we’re harping on your performances that night, but we’re not.”

“You had better not, Stephen Goodfellow!” said George also becoming wrathful. “You promised that you wouldn’t speak of that to me again.”

It is a............