try it then, will you, you nigger-stealing Yankees!" he
called. "I will fight both of you." And he settled himself for defence.

"Well, I will," cried his assailant. "Drop the tiller, Ferdy, and sit
tight. I will fight fair." Then to Gordon again: "I have given you fair
warning, and I will have that flag or sink you."

Gordon's answer was to drop one oar as useless, seize the other, and
steadying himself as well as he could, raise it aloft as a weapon.

"I will kill you if you try it," he said between clinched teeth.

However, the boy rowing the other boat was not to be frightened. He
gave a vigorous stroke of his oars that sent his boat straight into the
side of Gordon's boat.

The shock of the two boats coming together pitched Gordon to his knees,
and came near flinging him into the water; but he was up again in a
second, and raising his oar, dealt a vicious blow with it, not at the
boy in the boat, but at the flag in the bow of the boat. The
unsteadiness of his footing, however, caused him to miss his aim, and he
only splintered his oar into fragments.

"Hit him with the oar, Norman," called the boy in the stern. "Knock him
out of the boat."

The other boy made no answer, but with a quick turn of his wrist twisted
his boat out of its direct course and sent it skimming off to one side.
Then dropping one oar, he caught up the other with both hands, and with
a rapid, dexterous swing swept a cataract of water in Gordon's face,
drenching him, blinding him, and filling his eyes, mouth, and ears with
the unexpected deluge. Gordon gasped and sputtered, and before he could
recover from this unlooked-for flank movement, another turn of the wrist
brought the attacking boat sharp across his bow, and, with a shout of
triumph, Norman wrenched the defiant flag out of its socket.

Gordon had no time for thought. He had time only to act. With a cry,
half of rage, half of defiance, he sprang up on the point of the bow of
his boat, and with outstretched arms launched himself at the bow of the
other, where the captor had flung the flag, to use both oars. His boat
slipped from under his feet, and he fell short, but caught the gunwale
of the other, and dragged himself up to it. He held just long enough to
clutch both flags, and the next second, with a faint cheer, he rolled
off and sank with a splash in the water.

Norman Wentworth had risen, and with blazing eyes, his oar uplifted, was
scrambling toward the bow to repel the boar