d in, the
former rolling about and giving vent to such a peculiar set of grunts
and squeaks of delight, as increased the others' mirth, and made Distin
throw down his scull, and jump ashore, stamping with rage.

"No, no, Distie, don't do that," cried Gilmore, wiping his eyes. "Come
back."

"I won't ride with such a set of fools," panted Distin, hoarsely. "You
did it on purpose to annoy me."

He took a few sharp steps away, biting his upper lip with rage, and the
laughter ceased in the boat.

"I say, Distin," cried Vane; and the lad faced round instantly with a
vindictive look at the speaker as he walked sharply back to the boat,
and sprang in.

"No, I will not go," he cried. "That's what you want--to get rid of me,
but you've found your match."

He sprang in so sharply that the boat gave a lurch and freed itself from
the bank, gliding off into deep water again; and as Distin resumed his
scull, Gilmore waited for it to dip, and then pulled, so that solely by
his skill--for Distin was very inexperienced as an oarsman--the boat was
kept pretty straight, and they went on up stream in silence.

Macey gazed at Gilmore, who was of course facing him, but he could not
look at his friend without seeing Distin too, and to look at the latter
meant drawing upon himself a savage glare. So he turned his eyes to
Vane, with the result that Distin watched him as if he were certain that
he was going to detect some fresh conspiracy.

Macey sighed, and gazed dolefully at the bank, as if he wished that he
were ashore.

Vane gazed at the bank too, and thought of his ill luck in being at odds
with Distin, and of the many walks he had had along there with his
uncle. These memories brought up plenty of pleasant thoughts, and he
began to search for different water-plants and chat about them to Macey,
who listened eagerly this time for the sake of having something to do.

"Look!" said Vane pointing; "there's the Stratiotes."

"What?"

"Stratiotes. The water-soldier."

"Then he's a deserter," said Macey. "Hold hard you two, and let's
arrest him."

"No, no; go on rowing," said Vane.

"Don't take any notice of the buffoon, Gilmore," cried Distin sharply.
"Pull!"

"I say, old cock of the weather," whispered Macey, leaning over the
side, "I'd give something to be as strong as you are."

"Why?" asked Vane in the same low tone.

"Because my left fist wants to punch Distie's nose, and I haven't got
muscle enough--what do yo