"Great Scott, but that was a narrow shave!" I sighed in ecstasy. "He's out of it now."

"He may be out of the lock, but we're not out of the wood," said Alb.

He had slowed down, reversed the engine, and quietly passed into a water-lane between some huge barges, looking not a whit disconcerted by the curious gaze of the barge-folk who wondered at his bare feet and soaked overalls.

"Why, what can he do?" I asked. "He'll have to wait an hour before the lock opens again."

"You'll see presently what he can do," said Alb. "At least, you will if he has any sense. It will be time for us to crow by-and-by—if ever."

I burned to ask what he meant by these ominous prognostications; but he began to jabber in Dutch to our staring water-neighbors. Any stranger would have thought him in the pleasantest mood in the world. He had a friendly nod for the brown-faced skipper of a smoking tug, a few words for another, and smiles for every one.

"I'm telling them that I've a wager on, and begging their kind help to win it," he explained to me, as gradually he pushed "Mascotte" and "Waterspin" through, and ahead of, the other craft. "I'm saying nothing about the Club flag; but they can see it, and they all know what it means. But, to save rows, I'm being extra polite, and, you see, it pays. Nobody yet has resented our getting ahead, though theirs is the right of precedence."

On we went toward the top of the lock, sneaking, sidling, pushing, here and there thanks to a good-natured, helping hand, here and there thanks to a shout from the lock-keeper to a sulky bargeman. On the lock-keeper the sight of the Club flag had a magic effect, and he evidently intended to make its rights respected, no doubt counting on a five gulden "tip" at the end.

Ignorant of the perils at which Alb had hinted, the time seemed intolerably long as the water foamed in through the upper sluice-gates, filling the lock inch by inch, and lifting its load of creaking boats and tugs. When we entered the lower gates, we could see only the green and slimy wall of the lock; but by-and-by we found ourselves looking over green fields to a picturesque old town no more than a stone's throw away.

Alb's pleasantries and the might of the Club flag had brought us near to the top of the lock, and I had begun to hope that his dark prophecies were not to be fulfilled, when I jumped at the sound of a shout from shore.

The voice was the voice of Alec MacNairne, and turning my head with a start, I saw his tall figure tearing toward us on the narrow parapet made by the edge of the lock.

"That's what you meant?" I quavered.

"That's what I meant," answered Alb. But his hand was on the starting lever, and the upper gates had begun to swing back.

Alb was looking particularly debonair, and taking pattern by him, I turned away from my aunt's husband, pretending that I had neither seen nor heard him.

"Hi, you there! Starr—Brederode! Scoundrels!" he roared at our backs.

"If he jumps into one of these boats and gets across to us!" I murmured.

"He will if he can, but——"

Before Alb could finish his sentence the first half of my fear was verified. Sir Alec gathered himself for a spring, and leaping across the narrow water-lane between his parapet and the nearest barge, landed with a crash on the gunwale.

At that sound my heart seemed to stop for repairs; for there were two barges in front of us, the biggest in the lock, and we had not been able to pass them before the doors began to open. Now we could not escape until they had floated out into the canal, and, meanwhile, there might be a little private tragedy in high life on board "Mascotte."

But a Dutchman's lighter is as sacred, Alb has explained to us all, as a Dutchman's house; and when the loud, explosive Scotsman arrived on the gunwale, uninvited and breathing fire, the lighter's owner proceeded also to breathe fire. He swore; his Kees dog yapped; his children cried and his wife vituperated. An understudy took the helm, and before Sir Alec could jump across to another barge, in his pursuit of us, he found himself engaged in an encounter with the skipper of his first choice.

The one could speak no English, the other could speak no Dutch; and in his fury at seeing us slip out through the gates behind the two great barges, he could do nothing but stammer with rage, and try to push past the stout form which strove to detain him for argument.

Naturally, the push made matters worse. Sir Alec does not know Dutchmen, especially lightermen, as well as I have learned to do, or he would have refrained from that extreme—and on the man's own barge. His push was given back with interest, and the last we saw of him, as other boats surged round the scene of the contest, was in a gallant attempt to make a twelve-foot jump, while a stout Dutch skipper and a stout Dutch skipper's stout Dutch wife held on to his coat-tails.

Again I drew a full breath of relief, and I saw by Alb's face that he, too, hoped for the best, for—whatever his private feelings might be—he is too good a sportsman not to feel the spirit of a race.

We were out of the lock, our propeller churning the water, but—again there was a "but." Alb made a dash for freedom by trying to glide between the two immense barges which, alone of all the late denizens of the lock, had refused to give us precedence. But his gracious ways had not softened the hearts of these skippers, nor did they care for his Club flag. All they did care for was to keep one another from getting ahead.

Evidently they were old enemies, and this was not the first time that they had engaged in deadly duel. Ancient scores had to be paid, and a fig for those who came after!

Each glared at the other. Each tried to push his big craft ahead. Crash! They stuck, and jammed, the man at the right, the man at the left, pushing with all his force with a giant pole, each push locking both barges the tighter.

We were on their heels, and on ours was the whole press of boats let out from the lock, surging heavily forward.

Alb shouted something in Dutch. "I'm saying that the only thing is for one to give way, and let the other go by in advance, not both try to strain through together," he explained, when I anxiously demanded to know what was happening.

Both men shook their heads, and grumbled, while from behind rose a Babel of cries and adjurations.

"They won't," said Alb. "They say that they will never give way to each other. They would smash their boats first. If anything happens to part them they won't mind, because it will be fate, and neither one will have given up for the other. Meanwhile, they say they're sorry, but they won't move, and the rest of us must fare the best we can."

"Can't the lock-keeper do anything?" I asked.

"He can swear." Alb smiled; and I believe there was something in him that sympathized with the two obstinate brutes.

"For goodness' sake tell them we'll give each one a hundred—no, a thousand—gulden, if necessary, if only they'll agree as to which is to yield, and move out of our road."

"I'll tell them," said Brederode, dubiously; and a few words passed between the three.

"I knew what they'd answer," he announced, in a moment. "They say they won't do it for a million. 'Every man has his price,' is a proverb that doesn't count with Dutchmen, where principles are concerned. Now, I'm going to try and force a way, but I'm afraid 'Mascotte' hasn't force enough, and if not, it's all up, for here comes MacNairne."

I looked back and saw my uncle-in-law picking his way toward us from boat to barge, from barge to lighter. He had lost his hat in that argument of which I had not seen the end, but he had not lost his determination, and at his present rate he would reach us in about two minutes.

Suddenly Alb put on full speed ahead, and gallantly little "Mascotte" rammed her dainty nose between the two black and bulky barges. But her strength did not match her courage. She got only a pinching for her pains, and, as Alb exclaimed, we were caught.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I've done all I could, and don't see what I can do more, short of knocking poor MacNairne on the head with a pole."

"You've been a brick, and I won't forget it," said I. A strange coolness had come upon me with the knowledge that the worst was inevitable. I felt that my small-sword alone could win me through. "All I ask is that, whatever I do or say, you'll stand by me," I finished.

"Have you a plan?" he asked.

"Part of a plan. I——"

Before I had a chance to finish either plan or sentence the enemy was upon us. I heard him coming, and turned round just in time to meet my aunt's husband face to face as, climbing across from the nearest barge, he leaped over the rail on to our little deck.