Inch by inch, my fingers gripping the narrow slat to which I clung, I worked slowly toward the stern of the barge, making not so much as a ripple in the water, and keeping well hidden below the bulge of the side.

The voices above droned along in conversation, of which I caught a few words.
"Who was he?
You mean the lad they're after down yonder?
Oh, I mind now, you came up late after we'd started the chase.

Holy Mother, I don't know much myself, now I come to think of it.

He looked like a Britisher, what I saw of him, an' he was fightin' with a Captain of Rangers--Grant was the name; maybe you know the man ?--behind one of the stands.

Old Hollis heard the clash of the steel; an' he called to us, an' the whole bunch started on a run.