th continued to brighten the scene,
for Polly was recklessly sacrificing her best straw tick. Indeed her
behavior was in every way worthy of the noble alliance she had formed.
Her cob-pipe was not suffered to go out and with Connie's help she kept
the six small Cavendishes from risking life and limb in the keel boat,
toward which they were powerfully drawn. Despite these activities she
found time to call to Betty and Hannibal on the cabin roof.

"Jump down here; that ain't no fittin' place for you-all to stop in with
them gentlemen fightin'!"

An instant later Betty and Hannibal stood on the raft with the little
Cavendishes flocking about them. Mr. Yancy's quest of his nevvy
had taken an enduring hold on their imagination. For weeks it had
constituted their one vital topic, and the fight became merely a
satisfying background for this interesting restoration.

"Sho', they'd got him! Sho'--he wa'n't no bigger than Richard! Sho'!"

"Oh!" cried Betty, with a fearful glance toward the keel boat. "Can't
you stop them?"

"What fo'?" asked Polly, opening her black eyes very wide.

"Bless yo' tender heart!-you don't need to worry none, we got them
strange gentlemen licked like they was a passel of children! Connie,
you-all mind that fire!"

She accurately judged the outcome of the fight. The boat was little
better than a shambles with the havoc that had been wrought there
when Yancy and Carrington dropped over its side to the raft. Cavendish
followed them, whooping his triumph as he came.

CHAPTER XXXII. THE RAFT AGAIN

Yancy and Cavendish threw themselves on the sweeps and worked the raft
clear of the keel boat, then the turbulent current seized the smaller
craft and whirled it away into the night; as its black bulk receded from
before his eyes the Earl of Lambeth spoke with the voice of authority
and experience.

"It was a good fight and them fellows done well, but not near well
enough." A conclusion that could not be gainsaid. He added, "No one
ain't hurt but them that had ought to have got hurt. Mr. Yancy's all
right, and so's Mr. Carrington--who's mighty welcome here." The earl's
shock of red hair was bristling like the mane of some angry animal
and his eyes still flashed with the light of battle, but he managed to
summon up an expression of winning friendliness.

"Mr. Carrington's kin to me, Polly," explained Yancy to Mrs. Cavendish.
His voice was far from steady, for Hannibal had been gathered into
h