The six judges arose, and stood before the culprit.

The cage was critically examined, and Steve seemed to find it very amusing to point out its defects. Bob was pestered with questions about it, but he maintained a sullen silence, submitting doggedly to the inevitable.

“We must put you into narrow quarters for a little while, Bob,” Stephen said good-humoredly, “and try to disentangle a few leagues of this good cord.”

Two of the heroes supported Bob while Steve freed him from the rope. The discomfited plotter was too stiff[252] to make much resistance, yet when he found himself free he struggled nervously, but feebly, to break away from his tormentors. Then Jim, who was trying to make himself useful, threw open the door of the cage, and Charles and Stephen dumped him gently in.

Now, Bob had not built the cage for such a purpose; consequently, he did not sit comfortable in it—worse still, it threatened to burst asunder. But it did not.

His feet and legs were got inside somehow, but his head was mercifully left out, exposed to the sun and air. His hat had fallen off when he sprang upon the raft, and been taken over the falls; but George, more humane than the others, took off his own hat, and placed it firmly, but gently, on the exposed head.

Unknown to the soi-disant judges, the boy was wedged so fast in his cage that he was powerless to help himself. Thus he was virtually a prisoner in the very prison that he had prepared for another! This was turning the tables with a vengeance! This was poetical justice!

Poor little villain! He must have been in an exceedingly cramped and uneasy position; but his pride and his orthodoxy came to his relief, and he would not complain to the pitiless arbitrators of his fate.

“Look here, boys,” George cried, “if you are bound to punish him, you ought to kick out the end of that box, so that he could sit up straight, like a man, and be comfortable.”

“Yes, it is too bad,” Steve said pityingly. “But it will soon be over; and if we should go to tampering with the box, we might kick Bob in the stomach. Besides, Bob looks more forlorn than he is; and we have no business to destroy his boxes and things.—Now, where’s the rope, and then we will hurry through with it and let Bob out.”

About three hundred feet of the cord were disentangled, and once more the raft was set afloat with a prisoner on it.

In order to humble Bob still further, Steve intended to let Carlo carry the end of the rope in his mouth for a little way. But now he had not the heart to do it. As[253] the raft floated along lazily, Steve essayed to give a shout of triumph, but it died away in his throat.

The dog, however, began to gambol, sneeze, and bark, in an extraordinary manner. During the trial he had been the only really neutral one, and now he seemed to enjoy himself more than any of the self-styled judges. Bob looked on in some uneasiness, but he need not have been alarmed, for the dog made no motion to swim out and attack him.

The boys did not exactly understand it, yet somehow they seemed to take no pleasure in floating Herriman down the stream; and instead of an exultant procession along the bank, they marched solemnly onward, hardly speaking, and each one becoming more and more ashamed of himself. George had a theory of his own about this, but he did not make it known.

Seeing that matters had gone so far, Steve and Charles did not wish to stop till Bob had had his ride; but they felt ill at ease, and their conscience almost persuaded them that they were in the wrong.

So with the entire five (Jim being, as the reader has doubtless divined, a mere supernumerary in this history, although he figures conspicuously once or twice.) From the moment they placed the boy in his cage they began to relent.

To any person coming upon them, this risible spectacle would have been presented: six boys marching gravely down the stream; some three hundred feet in advance a raft drifting lazily along; on said raft a box, from which protruded an enormous head,—large enough for a genius,—neatly covered with a now battered but once respectable—nay, fashionable—straw hat.

Thus the raft drifted till within a quarter of a mile of the falls. Then Stephen said, “Ever since I went over the falls I’ve felt too nervous to prowl around very near them; so let us pull her up stream now, and let Bob go when we get into port.”

All agreed to this, and the rope, which had hitherto been slack, was pulled taut. The raft stopped its downward course, and was drawn towards them—perhaps, half a foot.

[254]

Then something that might have been expected from the beginning happened.

The rope broke!

Unknown to them, the jagged edge of the raft had worn the rope all but in two while Bob was hauling the raft towards him. In this place it now parted.

There was consternation among the self-constituted punishers. In truth, it is impossible to describe their terror, anguish, and remorse. All through their own foolishness a fellow-creature was in imminent danger. To be swept over the falls in his helpless condition meant Death. And whatever was done must be done quickly.

The boys felt as guilty as criminals ought to feel.

“Bob,” Charles screamed, “climb out, and jump into the river, and swim!”

“Oh, he can’t! he can’t!” Will cried, seeing that Bob was struggling desperately and vainly to get out of the box.

“George,” Steve cried wildly, “you spoke about swimming to the raft while Carlo was on it—swim now! Quick!”

“Of course,” the Sage replied, still a philosopher, but a perturbed one. “Yes, of course, I’ll go.”

To add to the confusion, stunning screams now came from Bob. He forgot that he was a villain; all his orthodoxy and stoicism forsook him; and he again brought his stentorian lungs into play. Far from having impaired his lungs on the night of George’s “experiment,” he seemed only to have strengthened them; and now he howled and bellowed like a wounded giant.

Cannot this be explained logically? The age of the romancer’s younger villains ranges between twenty-seven and thirty-nine; while the age of older villains varies greatly among different authors, and, much to the reader’s sorrow, is not always given. From this it would seem that Bob was too young to set up for a knave.

In view of this, the reader, having more discernment than the writer, suggests the following: The only reason why Bob had taken it so coolly was because he knew the boys too well to fear any harm from them. Besides, he[255] had heard all that was said during the “trial,” and he saw that the boys’ anger towards him had abated. But when he found that the raft was no longer under their control, he naturally became alarmed.

Yes, Bob again began to discharge atrocious and high-sounding interjections.

All the boys saw that George was more composed than they; and by mutual consent, he was left to plan a rescue. His coat had been off ever since he prepared to swim to Carlos relief; and now he stripped off the rest of his clothes, plunged into the river, and swam boldly for the imperilled boy.

He had, however, more self-confidence than self-possession; or he would have run down the bank till opposite to the raft, and so have gained time. He now swam as fast as possible; but the raft was some distance in advance, and steadily drawing nearer the falls.

The boys watched George anxiously, but were too demoralized to aid him in any way.

“Hello, you vagabonds!” was thundered behind them. “What does all this noise mean?”

The heroes were startled; and on turning, were appalled to see a burly rustic coming towards them at a round pace.

“Oh, dear,” groaned Will; “why does this fellow want to come here just at this time?”

“Oh, dear,” echoed Charles, Stephen, Marmaduke, and Jim.

“What does all this mean, you young villains?” roared the new-comer.

“A boy is floating over,” Marmaduke gasped.

“Well, do you mean to let him float? Why don’t you get up and save him? Oh, you awful boys! This is murder—parricide—manslaughter—abduction—gravitation—parsimony! What do you suppose the law’s going to say about this? It—it is un-con-sti-tu-tion-al!”

The five trembled—Jim exceedingly. In fa............