I can get through. It goes uncommon strong against the willows
there."

"You'll get through all right. I'll give yer a hand. I don't care to go
a mile round over the bridge."

"Yes, that's all very well, Mr. Jim, but I don't want my boat smashed."

"Smashed! I am a lucky one, I am. No harm comes to any boat or trap as
long as I'm in it."

The boatman consented. Just as he was about to push off, another man
came down and asked for a passage. It was Tom Catchpole. Jim stared,
but said nothing to him. The boatman also knew Tom, but did not speak.
Jim now had half a mind to alter his intention of crossing.

"I don't know as I'll go," said he. "It does look queer, and no
mistake."

"Well, don't keep me a-waitin', that's all."

Jim took his seat and went to the stern. Tom sat in the bow, and the
boatman took the sculls. He had to make for a point far above the
island, so as to allow for the current, and he just succeeded in clearing
it. He then began to drift down to the landing-place in the
comparatively still water between the island and the mainland.

Jim stood up with a boathook in his hand and laid hold of an overhanging
willow in order to slacken their progress, but the hook stuck in the
wood, and in an instant the boat was swept from under him and he was in
the water. He went down like a stone, for he could not swim, but rose
again just as he was passing. Tom leaned over the side, managed to catch
him by the coat-collar and hold his head above water. Fortunately the
boat had swung round somewhat, and in a few seconds struck the bank. It
was made fast, and in an instant Jim was dragged ashore and was in
safety.

"That's a narrow squeak for you, Mr. Jim. If it hadn't been for Mr.
Catchpole you'd have been in another world by this time."

Jim was perfectly sensible, but his eyes were fixed on Tom with a
strange, steady stare.

"Hadn't you better be moving and take off them things?"

Still he did not stir; but at last, without a word, he turned round
and--slowly walked away.

"That's a rum customer," observed the boatman; "he might have thanked us
at least, and he hasn't paid me. Howsomever, I shan't forget it the next
time I see him."

Tom made no reply: gave the man double his usual fare and went across the
meadow. He had no particular object in coming to Eastthorpe, excepting
that he had heard there was to be a meeting of Mr. Furze's creditors, and
he could not rest until he knew th