It's a good, strong
fence, and if you run into it, and try to bust it I'll have th' law on
ye!"
"Oh, you needn't worry that I'll do anything like that," spoke Mr.
Bobbsey. "But why won't you let us pass?"
"Because of what you did last night--interferin' between me and my
help. You wouldn't let me give Will Watson the threshin' he deserved,
an' I won't let you pass through my creek. I want you to back up your
boat, too, and go back where you come from. I own that part of the
creek where you are now."
"Come now, be reasonable," suggested Mr. Bobbsey. "I stopped you from
beating that boy only because you were in the wrong. If you'll just
think it over, you'll say so yourself. And, just for that, you
shouldn't stop my boat from going up the creek."
"Well, I have stopped you, and I'm going to keep on stoppin' you!"
cried Mr. Hardee, again shaking his fist. "You can't get past my
fence. It's a good strong fence."
"I--I could cut it, if I had one of those cutter-things, the telephone
man had," said Freddie, in his clear, high voice.
"Hush, Freddie dear," said his mother. "Leave it to papa."
Mr. Bobbsey was silent a moment, and then he went on:
"And so you strung that fence in the night, and won't let my houseboat
pass, just because I stopped you from beating that boy?"
"That's it," the mean farmer said.
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