Ready About; or, Sailing the Boat
Date: 2017-09-16T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Boats and boating -- Juvenile fiction

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Title: Ready About; or, Sailing the Boat

Author: Oliver Optic

Release date: September 16, 2017 [eBook #55557]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Chris Curnow, readbueno and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK READY ABOUT; OR, SAILING THE BOAT ***

The Boat-Builder Series.

I.

ALL ADRIFT;

OR,

THE GOLDWING CLUB.

II.

SNUG HARBOR;

OR,

THE CHAMPLAIN MECHANICS.

III.

SQUARE AND COMPASSES;

OR,

BUILDING THE HOUSE.

IV.

STEM TO STERN;

OR,

BUILDING THE BOAT.

V.

ALL TAUT;

OR,

RIGGING THE BOAT.

VI.

READY ABOUT;

OR,

SAILING THE BOAT.

DORY AND MR. JEPSON WATCH THE BURGLARS LANDING.

The Boat-Builder Series

READY ABOUT

OR

SAILING THE BOAT

BY

OLIVER OPTIC

AUTHOR OF "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD" "THE GREAT WESTERN SERIES"

"THE ARMY AND NAVY SERIES" "THE WOODVILLE SERIES" "THE

STARRY-FLAG SERIES" "THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES" "THE ONWARD

AND UPWARD SERIES" "THE YACHT-CLUB SERIES" "THE

LAKE-SHORE SERIES" "THE RIVERDALE STORIES"
"ALL ADRIFT" "SNUG HARBOR" "SQUARE AND
COMPASSES" "STEM TO STERN" "ALL
TAUT" ETC. ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
BOSTON
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS

Copyright 1887
By WILLIAM T. ADAMS
All rights reserved
Ready About

TO
My Young Friend
OTHO WILLIAMS CUSHING
OF FORT TRUMBULL, NEW LONDON, CONN.
This Book
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED

PREFACE.

"Ready About" is the sixth and last volume of "The Boat-Builder Series," which was begun six years ago. The only new characters presented in this story are the members of "The Nautifelers Club," who are introduced to exhibit the contrast between young men of high aims and correct principles, and those who are inclined to live too fast, and have no fixed ideas of duty to sustain and advance them in the battle of life. But, even in this miserable club, there are two classes of members; for one-half are reckless and worse than indifferent in the matter of right living, while the other half are led to the very verge of the precipice of crime by their unfortunate associations. The reform of the latter interests the principal of the Beech Hill Industrial School, who does his duty, as always, in the premises, with a very happy result.

More than its predecessors in the series since the first volume, this book is a story of adventure. In this portion, its tendency is to inculcate courage without rashness, and to show that a young man of high principles is not necessarily a coward and a milksop.

As indicated in the sub-title, "Sailing the Boat" is one of the principal features of the book. This is an art that cannot be mastered by simply learning the theory. Nothing but abundant practice can make a competent boatman. Fifty years ago, the writer, however, would have deemed it very fortunate if he could have obtained from a book, even such instruction as he has endeavored to impart. He has by no means exhausted the subject, though whatever more is to be learned will almost come of itself with experience. The author has learned in fifty years that there is always something more to learn; and the handling of a yacht has come to be almost "high art" in the amount of time, study, and enthusiasm bestowed upon the subject in recent years.

As the writer closes his twelfth series of books for young people, he cannot help thanking his numerous constituency in all parts of the country for the abundant and generous favor received from them. Thirty-three years have elapsed from the date of "The Boat Club," his first juvenile; and the kindness of his friends has never failed him in this period of a generation of the human race.

Minneapolis, Minn., July 15, 1887.

CONTENTS.

| PAGE
CHAPTER I.
Mr. Spickles from the Metropolis | 13
CHAPTER II.
The Nautifelers Club on the Lake | 24
CHAPTER III.
A Terrific Explosion in the Night | 34
CHAPTER IV.
The Scene of Operations | 45
CHAPTER V.
On the Track of the Burglars | 55
CHAPTER VI.
A Victim of Strategy | 66
CHAPTER VII.
The Effects of the Explosion | 76
CHAPTER VIII.
Some Differences of Opinion | 87
CHAPTER IX.
Under the Lee of Gardiner's Island | 97
CHAPTER X.
A Battle with the Elements | 108
CHAPTER XI.
The Turning of the Tables | 118
CHAPTER XII.
Dory Dornwood resorts to Strategy | 129
CHAPTER XIII.
The Arrival of Michael Angelo Spickles | 139
CHAPTER XIV.
The Result of Dory's Strategy | 150
CHAPTER XV.
Under Way, or Under Weigh | 160
CHAPTER XVI.
On Board of the La Motte | 171
CHAPTER XVII.
The Standing-Rigging of a Sloop | 181
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Running-Rigging of a Sloop | 193
CHAPTER XIX.
The Plan that was not Successful | 204
CHAPTER XX.
More Members of the Nautifelers Club | 215
CHAPTER XXI.
The Goldwing on the Starboard Tack | 225
CHAPTER XXII.
Something about Steering a Sail-Boat | 236
CHAPTER XXIII.
Operations in the Hold of the La Motte | 247
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Defenders of the Pirate-Schooner | 257
CHAPTER XXV.
A Selfish View of an Important Question | 267
CHAPTER XXVI.
"See, the Conquering Hero comes!" | 278
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Guests of the Institution | 287
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Stations for getting Under Way | 297
CHAPTER XXIX.
All of Dory's Class become Skippers | 308
CHAPTER XXX.
The Goldwing's Trip to Plattsburg | 318

READY ABOUT;
OR,
SAILING THE BOAT.

CHAPTER I.

MR. SPICKLES FROM THE METROPOLIS.

"I can't go on board now, Spickles," said Matt Randolph, in a very decided tone, and with an expression on his manly face which indicated that he did not wish to go, even if he could.

"What's the reason you can't?" demanded Spickles, evidently very much dissatisfied with the decision of the other.

"Because I have something else to do," added Matt. "I have to attend to my duties as closely here as though I were an officer in the navy, on sea-duty."

"What's the use of being tied up as though you were a prisoner at Sing Sing?" asked Spickles, his disgust apparent on his rather brutal face. "Your father is as rich as mud, and there is no need of your being kept in a strait-jacket."

"I am not kept in a strait-jacket," protested Matt, very warmly.

"I think you are," returned Spickles, with a curling sneer on his thick lips. "When I saw you in New York a year ago, you told me what a big thing Lake Champlain was."

"I still think it is the finest sheet of water in the world, and the region around it is a perfect paradise."

"Paradise!" exclaimed the visitor from the metropolis. "You said there was lots of fun to be had here."

"I find plenty of amusement for all the spare hours I have."

"After what you said, I kept thinking of this place; and five of our fellows have come up here, and chartered a schooner for the summer. She is anchored out in the river; and now that we are here, you will not even go on board of her," continued Spickles, becoming more and more disgusted with the refusal of the captain of the Lily; for such he was, and his "class in sailing" were about ready to go on board of the schooner.

"I am the skipper of that schooner you see out in the lake, and I have to go out in her in a short time," Matt explained.

"Put it off; let the party wait till you come back," insisted the visitor.

"We don't do things in that way here," added Matt, with a smile.

"Tell them you are sick, and can't go," suggested Spickles.

"But I am not sick."

"You were not always above stretching the truth a little in an emergency."

"I am now." Matt did not blush in saying it, either.

"We are going to stay on the lake all summer, if we don't get tired of it," continued Spickles. "I depended upon having you with us, Matt; for we don't know much about the navigation in these waters, though we have the government charts."

"I don't see how you could depend upon me, for I told you that I was under strict discipline in the Beech Hill Industrial School," argued Matt. "I can't come and go when I will."

"Confound the Beech Hill Industrial School! Run away from it, and join our party for the summer."

"I certainly shall not run away from it, for I am perfectly contented and happy here," replied Matt.

"At least you will come on board of the La Motte?"

"What's the La Motte?"

"She's the schooner we chartered for the summer, though she's nothing but a lumber-vessel fixed up for our use. She sails very well, and is large enough for a party of ten. We found her at Rouse's Point. Now, come on board of her. We have just opened a keg of beer in view of your expected visit," said Spickles, in the most persuasive tones he could command.

"I don't drink beer," answered the student of the school.

"You don't drink beer!" exclaimed the visitor, stepping back in his apparent astonishment. "How long has that been?"

"I haven't tasted beer, or any thing of the kind, since I came to this school, about two years ago," replied the captain of the Lily.

"Then, it was only because you couldn't get any beer."

"Perhaps that is one reason, though I haven't tried to get any. I had it all about me while I was at home in New York, but I had decided not to take any under any circumstances."

"Then, it is time for you to begin again. Come along, Matt."

"No beer for me, and I cannot go with you," added Matt resolutely. "I made up my mind a year ago not to drink any thing that fuddles, and to keep out of bad company."

"Bad company!" exclaimed Spickles, looking earnestly into the face of his former associate in the city.

"That is what I said; and I advise you to do the same thing, Spickles. It is best to keep on the safe side of the evils of this world."

"You are a regular built parson!"

This conversation was continued for some time longer, but the captain of the Lily remained as firm as the rocks in the quarry above Beechwater. The visitor was not only disgusted with his want of success in enticing his former companion to the schooner in the river, but he was offended at what he considered the stiffness of Matt. When the latter spoke of keeping out of bad company, he put the coat on, whether he saw that it fitted him or not.

"You are an out-and-out spooney now, Matt Randolph; and I did not think that of you," said Spickles, as the crew of the Lily began to gather on the wharf, where the conversation had taken place.

"Just as you please, Spickles," replied Matt, with a smile; and he seemed to feel that the interview had come to a desirable point, and that his former associate would drop him from the roll of his friends.

"But I want to look about this place a little before I leave it forever," added the visitor. "I suppose I can do so?"

"Certainly, upon application to the principal, Captain Gildrock. He will show you all over the establishment," replied Matt. "There he comes, and I will introduce you."

"All right. Chuckworth! Mackwith!" answered Spickles, calling to his two companions in the boat.

The three young men appeared to be about eighteen or twenty years old. They were dressed in yachting costume, and a person of experience in the ways of the world would at once have set them down as fast young men. They were of the reckless order, swaggering, defiant, boisterous. If a lady had seen them together, she would have taken the other side of the street.

Captain Gildrock was coming down the wharf, to look after the embarkation of the sailing-class. Matt Randolph presented Spickles to the principal, and left the chief of the party to introduce his companions.

"You are the boss of this concern, I take it, Captain Gilthead," said Spickles, suddenly putting on his usual style, and in a sort of patronizing tone, as if the principal had been a country schoolmaster, who ought to consider himself honored by being noticed by a young gentleman from the metropolis.

In fact, Captain Spickles, as his companions on board of the La Motte called him, was determined to "take him down" a little. The visitor, after what Matt had said to him about the discipline of the institution, regarded him with a sort of instinctive hatred. He did not like any one who disciplined young men. Principals, professors, schoolmasters, were monsters, ogres, tyrants, whose only mission in the world was to tease, torture, and torment young fellows like himself.

Captain Gildrock looked at him with a puzzled expression on his dignified face; though the usual smile when he was in repose, played about his mouth. He read the young man almost at the first glance; and if he had considered the popinjay worthy of his steel, he would have prepared for a skirmish of words with him.

"I said 'Captain Gildrock,'" interposed Matt, with emphasis enough to clear himself; for he saw that the fellow had purposely miscalled the name.

"Excuse me, Captain Goldblock."

"Certainly, Mr. Spittle," added the principal blandly.

"Mr. Spickles, if you please," interposed the visitor, who did not at all relish being paid off in his own coin.

"Precisely so, Mr. Spiddles," laughed the principal; while Matt had to turn away to hide his choking laugh.

"My name is Spickles, Captain Goldblock."

"Ah, indeed, Mr. Skiggles! Permit me to add that mine is Gildrock."

"Well, Captain Gildrock"--

"Well, Mr. Spickles"--

"I suppose you are the boss of this concern. Will you show it up?"

"I am the principal of this institution."

"Possibly I shall be able to entertain these visitors alone, Randolph, and you may go on board with your ship's company," said Captain Gildrock, a little later, while he was waiting for the young gentleman from New York to study up his next question.

Matt had twelve students to instruct in the art of sailing a boat, and he directed them to take their places in the two boats that were waiting for them.

"Well, boss, we are ready to see what you have got to show," said Spickles.

"Well, my young cub, I don't know that things here will interest you, but I will show you all you may wish to see," continued the captain, as he conducted the strangers to the office, under the schoolroom. "We register all students here when they come. If they have any money, we keep it for them in that steel safe."

"Is that a steel safe?" asked Mr. Spickles. "Upon my word, I thought it was a wooden one."

"You thought it was made of the same material as your head; but I assure you it is not. Nothing so soft would answer the purpose," answered the principal, who did not always stand on his dignity, though he had plenty of it.

Messrs. Chuckworth and Mackwith turned away, and indulged in audible smiles. Associated with Mr. Spickles, they were often the victims of his peculiar humor, and they were not at all sorry to have him put under the harrow. They enjoyed the remarks of the principal more than Spickles did.

"Then, it is really a steel safe; and I suppose you are afraid the students will steal your money, or you wouldn't have a steel safe," continued Mr. Spickles, chuckling as though he thought he had made a pun.

"Well, no; we hardly expect the students to rob the safe, for they are taught not to steal; but some of these visitors might have a taste for that sort of thing. I sometimes have a thousand dollars in that safe, besides small sums belonging to the students. In fact, I believe I have two thousand dollars in it at this moment: that is the reason why I prefer a steel safe to a wooden one."

The principal showed the visitors over the premises, though they took very little interest in the institution. Spickles indulged in impudent remarks, which the captain parried in his own way, so that he soon got tired of making them; for every time he did so, his friends had a chance to laugh at him, and enjoy the retort.

If Spickles disliked the principal in the first of it, he hated him in the end. A sharp answer made him mad when they had finished the survey, and he was so saucy that Captain Gildrock ordered him to leave. He did not take the hint; and the principal took him by the collar, dragged him to the wharf, and tumbled him into the boat. The leader of the summer party vowed vengeance to his companions.

CHAPTER II.

THE NAUTIFELERS CLUB ON THE LAKE.

Captain Gildrock hardly thought of the self-sufficient visitor after he had seen the boat which contained him pull away from the wharf. He only wondered how Matt Randolph had ever made the acquaintance of such a fellow, for he was a gentleman himself.

The Beech Hill Industrial School had nearly completed its third year of existence; and in the opinion of the principal, and also of a great many other people, it was a decided success. It had certainly reformed quite a number of young men who might otherwise have become useless, if not dangerous, members of the community. It had given useful trades to a considerable number of young men who would not have taken them up on their own account.

Its moral influence had been even more marked than its industrial power, and it had assuredly done something to make manual labor more respectable than it had been considered to be before. There were already those who were not only earning a living, but were supporting their parents, by the aid of the knowledge and skill they had acquired in the institution; and if it had done nothing more than this, it would have done a great deal.

Cold critics said it ought to be a success, for the founder of it had a purse long enough to make any reasonable undertaking a success; but the idea was not a practical one, because it was not susceptible of universal application. The State could not afford to support such schools for all who might be willing to use them. It certainly could not provide for an expenditure as liberal as that of Captain Gildrock, but it could do a great deal more than it has yet done in this direction.

After the principal had disposed of his impertinent visitor,--for there was really only one of this type, as Chuckworth and Mackwith hardly spoke a word,--he could not help thinking that it was a great pity Spickles could not be brought under such discipline as that of the Beech Hill School. He was a young man of decided ability, and all he needed was a kind of discipline that would give him something to live for. He needed something to think about and work for.

When Matt Randolph returned from his trip with his class in sailing, he reported to the principal, who happened to be in the office. He informed the captain where he had been, and the nature of the operations he had conducted on board of the Lily. He commended his crew for good discipline, and close application to their duty. A critic might have laughed at this last part of the report as entirely superfluous; for, as a matter of course, any party of human boys would be interested, and do their whole duty, in sailing a boat.

"By the way, Randolph, is Mr. Spickles a friend of yours?" asked the principal, after he had listened attentively to the report.

"No, sir!" replied Matt, very decidedly. "I was acquainted with him at home, and he was on board of the yacht a number of times; but after he stole a thousand dollars from his father, and ran away, I had nothing more to do with him."

"Was he as bad as that? He seemed to be more like one of the puppy order than one of the criminal kind. He was very saucy to me after I had shown his party over the school; and I had to take him by the collar, and put him into his boat."

"I am glad you did, sir," added Matt. "I was inclined to lay hands on him after his impudence at the beginning."

"He came to see you, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir. He is with a party, and there are five of them. They have chartered a schooner, and intend to spend the summer on the lake. Spickles invited me on board of the vessel, and insisted that I should go with him. I refused."

"The less you have to do with such a fellow as that, the better it will be for you, though it may be all the worse for him," added the principal.

"Spickles told me they had just tapped a keg of beer."

"Of course! the fellow has made considerable progress in the downward road."

After supper the students embarked in the barges for a row, and for practice with the oars. As during the last season, there were three of these boats, the Gildrock and the Winooski, each of twelve oars, and the Marian of eight oars. The crews had been re-organized; and the two larger boats were preparing for a race, each against the other.

Matt Randolph was the coxswain of the Winooski, and Dory Dornwood of the Gildrock; for the crew of each had selected the most skilful boatman in the school to get them in condition for this race. For the last year the students had been on tolerably peaceable terms with the members of the Chesterfield Collegiate Institute, on the other side of the lake; and it was possible that a race would be arranged with them for the Fourth of July.

The two barges were careful to keep away from each other during their practice. The two coxswains, though on the most friendly terms, never talked about the coming race. If either had any points, he wanted to keep them to himself. Each of them had a system of his own in the method of rowing, and each kept his own counsel.

Matt Randolph, for these reasons, did not immediately follow the Gildrock when she left the boat-house, but went up to the head of Beechwater. As soon as the rival craft had passed out of the little lake, the Winooski followed her. The coxswain saw that the party on board of the La Motte, which lay just below the entrance of the creek into the river, hailed the Gildrock when she went by her. But Dory took no notice of them; and Matt concluded that he had not been addressed in civil tones, or he would have replied.

"I wonder what that schooner is that lies in the river," said Ash Burton, who pulled the stroke-oar in the Winooski. "She has been there all the afternoon, and a boat from her went up into Beechwater a while ago."

"That is the schooner La Motte; and she has a party of young fellows on board of her who are going to spend the summer on the lake," replied the coxswain, loud enough for all in the barge to hear him.

"They are hoisting the mainsail," added the stroke-oarsman. "That looks as though they were going out of the river."

"If they are going to leave these parts, I am glad of it," said Matt in a lower tone.

"Why are you glad of it, Matt?" asked Ash curiously.

"They are not the sort of fellows I like to have very near me; for they are on a lark, and they have plenty of beer on board," replied the coxswain.

The boat passed out of the creek into the river. The La Motte had set her mainsail, and was now hoisting the foresail. Matt gave the schooner as wide a berth as he could, but he could not get more than a hundred feet from her.

"Is that you, Matt Randolph?" shouted Spickles.

"I believe so," replied the coxswain.

"Come on board, will you, Matt?" continue the captain of the La Motte, beckoning with his hand.

"You must excuse me, Spickles. I have the charge of this barge, and I can't leave her," replied Matt, very civilly, but not less decisively. "I have to attend to my duty."

"But I want to see you about the navigation of this river; for I got aground coming in, and I don't want to do it again," added the captain of the La Motte.

The coxswain shifted the helm of the barge; for if there was any thing to be done that would assist in the departure of the schooner, he was willing to do it. He ran alongside of the vessel, and held the boat at a distance of about ten feet from her.

"What is the trouble about the navigation, Spickles?" asked Matt, coming to business at once.

"Off that point below, I found that the water was not more than two feet deep," said the captain.

"And it is marked one foot on the chart; and you told me you were supplied with charts."

"I am; but the river is not laid down on the chart."

"You have a south-west wind; and all you have to do is to keep near the middle of the stream, and you will go out all right. Is that all?"

"No, that is not all," replied Spickles, who seemed to be dissatisfied at the distance his former friend kept between them, and with his apparent desire to get off again. "The water is not more than two or three feet deep anywhere out beyond that point."

"To the southward of the point, the water is shoal; but it is deep enough north of it to float an ocean-steamer anywhere. As soon as you get to that bend in the river, and open up the point, run for it. Then--have you a compass on board?"

"Of course I have a compass: I brought a good one with me from New York," replied Spickles.

"When you are up with Beaver Point"--

"Where is that?" interposed the captain of the La Motte, who seemed to be intent upon detaining the coxswain as long as possible.

"The point at the mouth of the river. When you come up with it, make your course north-west by west, and you will be all right till you run on the shore on the other side of the lake."

"I say, Matt, I want to introduce you to the members of the Nautifelers Club; and I wish you would come on board," persisted Spickles.

"As I said before, I cannot, and you must excuse me. But what is the club?" asked Matt, whose curiosity was excited.

"The Nautifelers Club."

"Is that a Greek word?"

"Of course it is."

"I can't quite make it out: will you spell it for me?" asked Matt.

"I will write it for you: it means in English, 'Lots of fun.'"

The coxswain gave an order which brought the stern of the barge near enough to the vessel to enable him to obtain the paper, but resisted all persuasions to go on board of the schooner.

CHAPTER III.

A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION IN THE NIGHT.

Matt Randolph looked at the name of the club, as Spickles had written it, and spelled it out so that all his crew could hear him. All of them seemed to "take it in," or got its meaning from his boatmates. They all laughed, with the exception of the coxswain, and he was inclined to frown.

"It is easy to get at the meaning of such Greek as that, even if a fellow has not fitted for college; and for my part, I should not care to join a club with such a name," said he, with a look of disgust on his face, which was also evident in his tones.

"I expected you to join us as soon as we found you, Matt," added the captain of the schooner.

"You reckoned without your host, then.--Ready to give way!" said the coxswain.

"Hold on a minute, Matt! Do you go to Sunday school now?" jeered Spickles.

"Every Sunday."

"I am sorry for you. You are under the thumb of that old hunker who calls himself the principal, and you don't know enough to catch the straw when you are drowning. I gave the old hunks some!"

"And he took you by the collar, and put you into your boat, and served you right. Give way!" added Matt.

"He's an old squalipop; and he will be likely to hear from me again! He is no gentleman, and he treated me like an uneducated owl. I shall pay him off for it, or my name is something besides Spickles," foamed the skipper of the La Motte.

At this moment, and while the barge was backing away, one of the party brought out a tray, on which were tall glasses filled with beer; and each member of the Nautifelers Club took one of them.

"Here's to the Nautifelers Club! Lots of fun to them, and confusion to old Squalipop!" shouted Spickles, at the top of his lungs, as he and his companions drank off the contents of the glasses.

The barge darted away from the schooner, and was soon out of hail of her. It was evident that the members of the club with the Greek name had bargained for an extensive frolic of the coarsest sort, and most of the crew of the Winooski were simply disgusted with the members of it. Some of them had come from the city, and were more or less familiar with such sights.

"I should rather like to join that club," said Tom Topover, when the boat was some distance from the La Motte.

"You are not one of that sort of fellows now, Tom," added the coxswain. "You have got beyond that kind of a life, and I hope you are strong enough to keep above it."

"You know how to preach, Matt; but I don't want to sit under your preaching. Those fellows are going to have a good time; and I think they will enjoy it," added Tom pleasantly, as some of his old temptations came back to him. "Do you know those fellows, Matt?"

"I know Spickles; but I never saw the others before, though I think they behave like gentlemen compared with their leader."

"He is a jolly fellow," added Tom.

"Spickles's father was formerly a wealthy man in the city, and his son stole a thousand dollars from him. Since that I have kept out of his way, and I will not associate with him."

"What did he do with the money? Give it to the missionaries?" asked Tom; and his companions noticed that he talked a good deal worse than he meant sometimes, and could not entirely rid himself of his former ways of expressing himself.

"He took a steamer to New Orleans, and spent his stolen money in dissipation. When it was all gone, he had to come home before the mast in a bark. He is a bad boy, and his father could not manage him. If he had been sent to the Beech Hill School, it would have made a man of him. I don't quite understand, though I can guess, how he can take such a trip as the one he is now making; for his father lost his money, failed, and is now at work as a clerk."

"Perhaps some of the other fellows have rich fathers," suggested Ash Burton.

"It may be so, but I don't believe it. The sons of rich fathers, when they want to go on a frolic, don't make such a fellow as Michael Angelo Spickles their leader," added Matt.

"Is that his name?" asked Ash.

"They say his mother don't like the name of Spickles, and gave him a high-sounding handle to it to smooth it off. I don't know any thing about it, Tom Topover; but if I were a betting man, I would wager two to one that Spickles stole the money which is used to pay the expenses of the La Motte," continued Matt impressively.

"Then, again, perhaps he didn't," replied Tom.

"I think he did; and he didn't steal it from his father this time, for Mr. Spickles did not have it. Now, Tom, whether he stole this money, or not, he will certainly come to grief. In a month, a year, or ten years, when you see him in the State prison, you will be glad you were not a member of the Nautifelers Club," said Matt, as he consulted the paper in his hand to recall the Greek word.

"You don't know what is going to become of that fellow any more than you know what is going to become of me," added Tom.

"Certainly I don't know; but when you see a young fellow like Spickles, drinking, dissipating, insulting a gentleman like Captain Gildrock, it is easy enough to see where he is coming out. I used to drink beer with Angy, as we used to call Spickles when he was a more decent fellow than he is now, and I know something about it."

"Didn't you like it?" asked Tom.

"I can't say that I did: it always gave me the headache, and made me feel more like a fool than I generally do. I used to drink it because other fellows did. When I came up here, I did not want it; and I have been a great deal better without it."

The Winooski went to the other side of the lake, where the coxswain proceeded to train his crew for the work before him. Not a word was spoken that did not relate to the practice, which was kept up till nearly dark, when the barge returned to Beech Hill. As the boat approached the mouth of the river, the La Motte was seen two or three miles to the northward, standing down the lake. Matt hoped that she would not again visit the waters in the vicinity of Beech Hill.

Matt reported to the principal when the boat had been housed, as all who were in charge of expeditions, excursions, or business trips, were required to do. He informed the captain of the departure of the La Motte, and related to him what had taken place during the interview, giving him the name of the club, as written on the paper.

"The Nautifelers Club is well named, if the word is Greek," said Captain Gildrock. "I suppose they are merely engaged in a frolic, and I only hope they will keep away from this part of the lake."

"They came from the northern part of the lake, for they chartered the schooner at Rouse's Point; and I don't exactly understand why they are going off in that direction again," suggested Matt. "They have not yet been to the upper part of the lake, and it looks as though they did not intend to do so."

"Perhaps they have drunk so much beer they don't know what they are about," added the principal. "I should say that Spickles was a bright boy, and it is a thousand pities that he is plunging into excesses."

At the usual hour all was still; and the students, who had had plenty of exercise in the boats as well as in the shops, slept soundly in their rooms. Insomnia was unknown at the institution, and all were active and bright in the morning at an early hour.

Some of them awoke at an unusually early hour the next morning, though it soon appeared that the current of events was not flowing in its ordinary channel. The students and others had been awakened by some extraordinary disturbance, or most of them would have slept till the morning-bell roused them from their slumbers.

As nearly at three o'clock as the hour could afterwards be fixed, a tremendous explosion, with a sound which equalled the report of one of the yacht-guns on board of the Sylph, shook the buildings of the school, and made the windows of the dormitory rattle as though a hurricane had struck them. The very earth seemed to tremble under the effects of the convulsion.

Suddenly startled from their slumbers, those who heard the sound, and had been shaken in their beds by it, were unable to determine where the report came from, or to form any idea of what had caused it. Perhaps half the students in their rooms leaped from their beds, and the other half were partially paralyzed where they lay by the shock.

Doubtless, if they had been awake, and had understood the cause of the explosion, they would have enjoyed it; for the average boy delights in a terrific noise. But they were literally and figuratively in the dark. They could see nothing to explain the tremendous racket which had startled them from their deep sleep, and not a sound followed the shock to give them a clew to the strange event.

Some thought it must be an earthquake; others that it was a crash of thunder which attended the striking of the lightning at some point not far from them. Possibly some of them thought that a daring rogue of the school was playing off a trick upon his companions; and more wondered if one of the chimneys on the dormitory had not fallen over, and crushed in the roof of the building.

It might be an earthquake, for there was no smell of powder, no lightning in the sky; and no one was stirring in the building, as would have been the case if the roof had been crushed. In fact, not even the most intelligent and quick-witted of the students could assign any cause to the event. They stood in their rooms, or lay in their beds, thinking of it for a few moments, waiting for something else to come, some after-clap, which would throw a ray of light on the subject. Nothing came.

Some of the boldest and most energetic of the boys began to put on a portion of their clothes, and unfastened their doors. As may well be supposed, Dory Dornwood was one of the first to come out of the stupor produced by the shock. He had not been awake more than five seconds, before he had jumped inside of his pants, and opened the door of his room.

He looked out into the long hall, but it was as dark as Egypt there; and there was no glare of a fire in the building,--not a flash, not a sound of any kind. He went back into his room, and opened the window. He looked out on the lawn, but there was nothing in motion there. No key to the enigma was within his reach.

But by this time, he heard a sound in the hall. He went to the door, but it was too dark to see any thing. Some conspiracy on the part of a few restless students might have been brought to a focus at this time, and he deemed it prudent to light his lamp before he took any step. If there was any thing to be seen, he wanted to see it.

If any conspirators were trying to knock down the dormitory, or perpetrate a practical joke, he had a desire to know who they were; for all such tricks were at a discount in the school. The principal had no mercy for a practical joker when the feelings or the person of any individual was imperilled by the so-called fun.

There was some one in the hall, beyond a doubt. It might be one of the students, roused, like himself, by the explosion; or it might be an evil-doer from outside of the fold. Dory opened the door again, and thrust the lamp out into the hall, so as to light every part of it.

The person in the hall proved to be Matt Randolph.

CHAPTER IV.

THE SCENE OF OPERATIONS.

"Did you hear it, Dory?" called Matt Randolph, as soon as he saw the light at the door of the other.

"Did I hear it?" replied Dory, who was cool enough to smile at the absurdity of the question, though it was nothing more than the introduction to the subject in the minds of both. "I could not very well help hearing it, though I sleep as soundly as a bullfrog in winter."

"What was it?" demanded Matt, apparently more excited than Dory.

"That's the conundrum before the house at the present moment. I have not the least idea what it was," replied Dory. "It shook my windows, and at first I thought my bed was lifted up under me. It might have been an earthquake, though such convulsions are not the fashion in the State of Vermont."

"I thought it must be an earthquake at first," added Matt.

"Did you alter your mind?" asked Dory, as he stepped back into his room, and put on his shoes.

"Not exactly; but on second thought I concluded that it could not be an earthquake, and I was wondering what it could be, when I heard a door open," added Matt, who was fully dressed, for he had taken the time to put on his clothes before he came out of his room.

"I move you, Captain Randolph, that we don't try to imagine what it was, but that we go and look into the matter, and find out what it was," replied Dory, as he put on his coat, and led the way to the hall.

"That is the sensible thing to do; but a fellow can't expect to be very bright when he is shaken out of his slumbers by something like an earthquake," said Matt, as he followed Dory.

By this time several of the students had recovered, in a measure, from their consternation, and had opened their doors, some of them shaking with terror, as though they expected to be swallowed up immediately in some awful catastrophe.

"What is the matter, Dory?" Tucker Prince asked, as the two coxswains passed his door.

"Give it up, Tuck: ask me something easier," replied Dory, laughing. "I may be able to tell you something about it at a later hour in the morning."

"What was it, Dory?" asked Tom Topover.

"It was a tremendous noise; and that is all that is known about it at the present moment, on this floor of the dormitory."

"I knew as much as that before," added Tom.

"Then, you are as wise as any of us, Tom."

Dory and Matt did not pause to talk, but hastened to the lower floor. There was nothing below to explain the noise, and the outside door was locked as usual. Dory opened it, and they went out on the lawn. At this point they smelled something which was not powder, though it had an unknown chemical odor.

The building containing the schoolroom and workshops, or a part of the latter, was close to the dormitory; and the inquirers went in that direction. The office was in front of the shops, on the lower floor. It was an apartment of considerable size, which had been put in the year before, when the shops were enlarged. It was handsomely carpeted, and was really Captain Gildrock's private apartment; though Fatima Millweed used it, and kept the accounts of the institution there.

As the principal had indicated to his visitors the afternoon before, it contained a steel safe, as well as a couple of roll-top desks, and a number of easy-chairs; for visitors on business were received in this room. Captain Gildrock had sold a house the day before in the town, and had put the money he received in the safe until he could go to the bank in Burlington.

Dory had carried his lamp as far as the outside door of the dormitory, but the wind had blown the light out as soon as he came out of the building. He retained it in his hand as they walked to the shops, as the structure was called, taking its name from the working, rather than the school, room.

It was a dark night, cloudy and windy: in fact, it was blowing a smart gale from the south. Coming from the light into the gloom outside, Dory and Matt might as well have been blind, so far as seeing any thing was concerned. But every inch of the ground was familiar to them, and they walked directly to the shops. The chemical odor became more pronounced. They halted in front of the office. This apartment was locked, and they had no key to the door. They could not yet see any thing in the deep gloom, though their sight was improving.

"The explosion came from some point near us," said Dory, as he walked up to the door of the office, guided by instinct rather than sight.

"I can smell something, but I can't see a thing," added Matt.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Dory, when he had passed from the door to one of the windows of the office. "This window is open, and the mischief came from here!"

"Is it a break?" demanded Matt, beginning to be a little excited.

This was police slang; but Dory understood it, as any one might have done; and he replied that it was a "break."

"Look out, then, Dory!" added Matt, laying his hand on the shoulder of his companion. "The burglars may be still in the office; and such fellows carry revolvers, which they use when they get into a tight place."

"They can hardly be here now, after they have taken the trouble to wake up the entire neighborhood with such an explosion," replied Dory. "Take this lamp, Matt, and I will get in at the window, and strike a light."

"Don't do it, Dory!" protested Matt. "Wait a moment, and I will go back to the dormitory, and get a lantern out of the lower hall."

Without waiting for his companion, Matt ran back to the dormitory. A couple of lanterns were kept there for the use of the students in the evening, if they had occasion to go to the shops or elsewhere. Matt took one of them down, and lighted it, for there were matches in the tin box on the wall. When he had done so, he concluded to light the other, so that each of them could have one in conducting the examination.

Dory stood at the open window while his companion was gone; for he agreed with Matt, that prudence was a virtue at all times: and reasonable people practise it, unless they get too angry to do so, and then they regret it afterwards. He had begun to think that Matt was gone a long time, when he heard a sound inside of the office.

The noise startled him, for he had not believed the robbers delayed their flight so long after they had taken the trouble to announce themselves to all within hearing. He listened with his head thrust into the open window as far as the length of his neck would permit, and he was intensely interested from that moment.

If there were any robbers in the office, they must have heard what Matt said when he proposed to go for the lantern. Dory had always read the newspapers; and he knew something about the operations of burglars, though he lived far from any great city. The night-visitors to the office of the institution, he concluded, had blown open the steel safe, or attempted to do so. If they had succeeded, it could not have taken them more than a minute or two to scoop out the contents of the safe, or at least to pocket the money it contained.

He was just making up his mind that the burglars must have departed before any one had had time to come to the office, when the noise he had heard before was repeated. It sounded like some mechanical operation, and appeared to be on the farther side of the room, where there was a door opening into the carpenter's shop.

"I was a fool not to open this door before we finished the safe!" said some one in the room, in a low and subdued voice, and in a tone which indicated his disgust at the situation in which he found himself.

"Hurry up! The fellow will be back with the lantern in a moment, and then we shall be blown," added another voice.

"Then some one will get shot!" said the first speaker.

But at the same moment, the sound of the opening door came to Dory's ears. He was on the point of springing in at the window, to prevent the escape of the burglars, when he realized that he was almost sure to be shot, as the first speaker had suggested. He was unarmed; and against two men, as he supposed they were, he had a small chance of accomplishing any thing in the way of capturing them.

Through the open door into the shop he saw several flashes of light, and then he understood that the operators were provided with one or more dark-lanterns. He could hear their retreating footsteps in the shop; and he concluded that they intended to escape through one of the rear windows, which they could easily open, as they were fastened on the inside.

Two lights were approaching from the dormitory, Dory saw, as he withdrew his head from the window. But what use were they now? He had solved the enigma, and any further light on the subject was superfluous. The burglars had effected an entrance: whether the explosion had opened the safe, or not, was yet to be discovered. But while he was thinking of the matter, the robbers were getting away. This was all wrong, Dory suddenly realized.

"Help! Help! Burglars! Robbers!" shouted Dory, at the very top of his voice; and he had never been accused of having weak lungs.

"What are you about, Dory?" called Matt, as he rushed towards him.

"Doing the next best thing!" said Dory hastily. "Run to the dormitory, Matt, with all your might, and ring the bell, just as you would for fire."

"Do you think there are any burglars in the office?" asked Matt.

"Not now! But there have been at least two of them there, and now they are escaping by the back windows of the carpenter's shop! They are armed too. Hurry up, and ring the bell, Matt!" shouted Dory, in the ears of his companion, as he took one of the lanterns from him.

Placing the lantern on the doorstone of the office, Dory darted off at the fastest run he could get up for the rear of the building. He appeared to have forgotten that the burglars had revolvers.

CHAPTER V.

ON THE TRACK OF THE BURGLARS.

Matt Randolph lost no time in discharging his duty at the bell-rope, and he performed it with the utmost vigor and determination. He rang the bell, which was in a cupola at the top of the building, as the students had been instructed to do in case of fire. There was no art or skill to be used in the operation, and the ringer was simply required to make all the noise he could; and Matt made it.

Dory reached the rear of the shops in season to escape being shot by the reckless burglars, and even to avoid being shot at. Perhaps it was fortunate that he was too late to see the marauders leap from the window, as he had expected; for his life, or the comfort and well-being of his well-developed frame, might have been endangered.

When Dory reached the rear of the shops, he found one of the windows open; and he halted under it to obtain further information, for he was not a fellow to lose his head, and fly off at random. The rapid ringing of the bell was rather exhilarating; but he considered it quite necessary to keep cool, and he did not allow himself to be carried away by the excitement of the moment. He stopped short under the open window.

It was too dark to see any thing. He had thought of bringing the lantern with him; but when he thought that it would be of more assistance to the burglars in avoiding him, than it would be to him in finding them, he concluded to let the darkness hide his movements. It occurred to him that the light would enable them to use their revolvers effectively.

All he could do was to stop and listen. The wind was blowing very hard; and the noise it made in the trees prevented him from hearing the tramp of footsteps, if there were any to be heard. There was not a sound that could be distinguished above the rattling of the leaves and the swaying of the branches.

It was rather discouraging to the volunteer thief-taker; and he began to feel that he had come to the end of his rope, for it was useless to run here and there without something to guide his steps. As he had no clew to the marauders, he could only consider probabilities. What direction would the burglars take to make their escape? If they had come in a boat, they could embark anywhere between the bridge above the quarries and Beaver River.

By land they could pass through the grounds of the estate, and reach the street; or they could follow the cart-path through the quarries, pass over the bridge, and reach Lake Champlain at Porter's Bay, or any point below it, or strike a road which would lead them to the north.

While he was thinking of it, he heard the voice of Matt Randolph calling to him. But the bell was still ringing, even more furiously than at first; and it was plain that he had turned this task over to some other student, for no one but a boy would have put so much vigor into the operation. And by this time the tremendous racket ought to bring a crowd to the centre of the disturbance.

"Have you seen any thing of them, Dory?" shouted Matt, as he reached the corner of the building.

"Not a thing," replied Dory.

The sound of his voice directed the steps of his companion, and brought him to the vicinity of the open window. He had a lantern in his hand, and by its aid they examined the window by which the burglars had made their exit from the shop. But there was nothing there to afford them a particle of information in the quest.

"Don't you know which way they went?" asked Matt.

"I have not the least idea," answered Dory; and he stated the avenues of escape open to the robbers, as he had just been over them in his own mind.

"But while we are standing here, doing nothing, the villains are getting away," said Matt, with some excitement in his manner.

"It's no use to tear around wildly without knowing what you are about," replied Dory quietly. "I am in favor of looking over the chances before we strike in any direction. With all the racket of that bell, they did not go through the grounds to the nearest road."

"They will give the roads a wide berth," added Matt.

"Then, they have either taken a boat on the little lake, or they have gone up to the bridge above the quarry. I feel almost sure they have done one or the other of these things," continued Dory, who had reached a decided conclusion, and was ready to act.

"I think you are right, Dory; and what to do is the next article in the warrant," replied Matt, whom the influence of the other had completely cooled off, and he saw the folly of running about at random without any plan of operations.

"All we have to do is to cover the open points of escape, as we understand them. Have the fellows turned out yet?"

"I believe every one of them is out, in front of the dormitory."

"My uncle ought to be on the spot by this time; but if he is not, I will assume the responsibility of acting without him. If you will take a crew, and man the Marian, I will follow the route by the bridge. The keys of the boat-house are in the office. Be in a hurry about it," added Dory briskly; and he started off in the direction of the quarries.

"Suppose I see a boat working out of Beechwater, do you think I ought to try to capture it?" asked Matt, who seemed to be in doubt.

"Not at all! Follow it, and see where it goes: follow it to the end of Lake Champlain, if it leads you as far as that. Don't meddle with it, and don't let any of your fellows get shot."

Matt ran back to the dormitory. Though the bell had been ringing some time, Captain Gildrock had not yet appeared at the scene of the tumult. The captain of the Lily took the keys, and summoned the crew of the Marian. In less than five minutes they were pulling out of the boat-house. The boat proceeded, with all the speed the oarsmen could give it, to the outlet. Matt went through it to the river, and then proceeded to examine the north shore of Beechwater.

Dory followed the road to the quarries, and reached the bridge. He crossed it, and was then in the great road. Between him and the lake the region was covered with woods. From the road there were cart-paths leading down to the lake, mostly used by picnic parties. If the burglars had come this way, they were likely to take to the woods, if they understood that they were pursued.

Dory halted several times to listen; but it was useless to do so, he found, for the wind in the trees made noise enough to silence all other sounds. He passed the cart-path which led down to Porter's Bay, and soon came to one which led to a very deep indentation of the shore from Kingsland Bay.

At this point he halted and listened again, and had about come to the conclusion not to go any farther in this direction. But just then a bright thought was suggested to him by the circumstances of the occasion. There had been a heavy rain some time in the night, after he went to bed, as he learned from the puddles of water in the road. The ground, where he had seen it by the light of the lantern, had been washed by a heavy shower, such as sometimes comes with a southerly wind.

The road was rather sandy at the point where Dory halted, as he could tell from the feeling of it. He lighted a match, for the purpose of applying a little Indian craft to the situation. Placing the lighted brand inside of his hat, to protect it from the wind, he stooped down, and began to examine the bed of the road.

He had hardly bent his body to the task before he heard a sound, not a great distance from him, which was marvellously like a human voice. He sprang to his feet, and gazed into the gloom of the woods in the direction from which the sound had come. But all was silence except the piping of the violent wind through the branches of the trees. He strained his hearing-powers for some time, in the hope that the sound would be repeated; but he did so in vain.

He was almost sure that he had heard a voice, and he was encouraged to believe that he was on the right track. The sound reached him very nearly at the instant when he had touched off the match. He spent a few minutes in reasoning over the circumstance. If the burglars were in the vicinity, the light of the match had enabled them to locate him; and he was willing to believe that the discovery of his presence had called forth a sudden exclamation of surprise from the least prudent of the two.

Whether his conclusion was correct, or not, it satisfied him, and assured him that the marauders were near him. He was alone and unarmed; while there were two burglars, each perhaps provided with a revolver. The situation was not wholly satisfactory to him; for though he was as brave as a lion, he was also as prudent as a cat lying in wait for a bird.

He had halted at the junction of the great road with the cart-path leading to Kingsland Bay; and the sound he had heard, assured him that the marauders were on this side-road. He had no more idea of attacking them than he had of running away from them. But the light had enabled them to fix his own position in the gloom, and Dory deemed it advisable to derange their calculations.

With a careful step, he walked away from the junction of the roads by the way he had come. It would be as difficult for them to hear him as it was for him to hear them, and in a few moments he increased his pace. At the foot of a little hill, perhaps a quarter of a mile from his first stopping-place, he halted again. He did not believe they had followed him, for they could not have been aware of his movement.

Lighting another match, he examined the road, as he had intended to do before. Between the ruts he found the footprints of two persons, who had been walking side by side. The marks were made by genteel boots or shoes, and not by any farmer or laborer who wore cowhide and broad soles on his feet.

This discovery made it appear to Dory that the burglars were professional gentlemen of the housebreaking order, and probably they did not belong anywhere in the vicinity of Genverres. This demonstration added something to the inquirer's stock of information; but it was of no especial value, since the hearing of the voice in the woods was more tangible evidence.

No end of questions which he could not answer flashed through Dory's mind after his match had burned out, and he had established to his own satisfaction the professional character of the operators. They were somewhere within a half a mile of him; and he wanted to know whether they intended to take a boat at Kingsland Bay, or escape by the road, which would take them to Burlington if they followed it long enough. Of course he could not answer either of these important questions.

The peril of the situation, in view of the revolvers, and the lack of knowledge, made it very difficult for him to determine what to do. He ended by deciding to do nothing beyond lying in wait for the marauders. He returned very cautiously to the junction of the roads again. There he seated himself on the top-rail of a fence, and--waited.

That was all he could do, though the inactivity to which he was condemned made him as impatient as a chained mastiff.

He had seen the clock in the lower hall of the dormitory, and he knew that the explosion had occurred at about three o'clock. At least half an hour--and he thought it was nearer a full hour--had since elapsed. It would be daylight within an hour, though it was a very dark morning, and with the light he could act more intelligently.

No sound came from the direction of the bay, and it occurred to Dory that the marauders might have continued their retreat by the road. He was startled at the thought, and he jumped down from the fence.

CHAPTER VI.

A VICTIM OF STRATEGY.

Almost at the same moment, it came to the active mind of Dory Dornwood that the burglars might have gone to the bay, and embarked in a boat. They were as likely to do this as they were to take to the road. He had heard nothing since the sound of the voice startled him, and the villains might be two or three miles from him by this time. It would not be pleasant for him, at the breakfast-table the next morning, to relate that he had got on the track of the robbers, and then entirely lost the clew to them.

The thought of such a state of things annoyed him; and he decided that he should rather be shot, or at least be shot at, than subject himself to this degree of humiliation. But it was best to be prudent, even after he had decided to be shot at rather than be inactive any longer; and he walked some distance beyond the cart-path, to the northward.

He was intent upon settling the first problem,--whether or not the burglars had retreated by the road during his absence in the other direction. He lighted a match; but his examination of the roadway revealed no prints of human feet, and even those of horses had been obliterated by the heavy rain. He investigated several points of the road, and looked carefully on each side of the driveway, without finding a mark.

Returning to the junction of the roads, he made new calculations of the probable action of the marauders. He was reasonably confident, that, as they had not taken to the road, they were still in the woods. They must be strangers to the locality, and were not likely to attempt to find their way through the woods in the intense darkness which prevailed under the trees. Possibly they were waiting, like himself, for the daylight.

Dory did not believe they could get away unless they took to the lake, or departed by the road, at least until it was light enough for them to pick their way through the woods. He was covering the road, and he believed that he had got the matter down fine enough to leave them only the lake as an avenue of escape.

The wind was now blowing a violent gale; and even the most experienced boatman in those waters would not think of going out in a small boat, unless it was to save life. Kingsland Bay was fully sheltered, for it was not more than half a mile wide at its greatest breadth. They could not get out into the lake while the present tempest raged; and if they tried to get away in any other direction, they must aim for the road, for the Little Beaver River cut off their retreat between the highway and the lake.

Dory's head had been very level so far; and when he stated his theory in detail to his uncle, the principal, he fully approved his logic. He resumed his seat on the fence. He had hardly done so before he caught a faint gleam of light in the woods in the direction of the lake. A moment later he discovered a more decided appearance of a light. The villains were getting reckless, he thought; and possibly they concluded that the pursuers had abandoned the chase, as they saw no more of them.

Encouraged by these appearances, Dory continued to wait. At the end of half an hour he was astonished to see a light in the road, not twenty rods from him, and in the direction of Beech Hill. At first he concluded that it was the lantern from the school, and that some one or a party had started to find him.

The light was moving; but it was not approaching him, as it would be if his supposition were correct. It was certainly moving in the direction of Beech Hill, and it must be from the dark-lantern of the robbers. If this was the case, they were certainly taking a great deal of care to show it to him.

He could not see the person who carried the moving light, or tell whether he was alone, or not. Just then it looked to Dory as though he was losing the game he had been playing so patiently. He left the fence again. By the side of the road was a quantity of hoop-poles, and he stumbled over them. He took one of them, and cut it in two; for it was best to have a club, though he did not expect to have to use it.

Somehow the weapon seemed to add to his strength, though it was no match for a revolver. From the evidence of the light, he concluded that not more than one, if either, of the men remained in the woods. It looked as though the robbers were arranging a new combination, and Dory decided to make sure that he did not leave one of the villains behind him if he followed the light.

It was but a short distance to the head of the bay, and a visit to the shore would not detain him ten minutes. He followed the cart-path, proceeding very cautiously. But he reached the shore without seeing or hearing any thing. It was beginning to be a little lighter.

Drawn up on a little beach he discovered a boat. This could belong only to the burglars. But why had they taken to the road, and started off in the direction of the school, instead of departing in their boat? But they must certainly return to the boat, and finally escape in it. The painter was made fast to a tree; and Dory lost no time in casting it off, and shoving the boat as far as he could from the shore.

He had closed that avenue of escape, and he started for the road. Before he had gone twenty steps, he found himself in the embrace of a man, who had fallen upon him in the rear. His club was useless; and the attack was wholly unexpected, for he had been fully satisfied that the robbers were both retreating by the road.

Dory struggled with all his might, but he was taken at an utter disadvantage. A puny assailant might overcome a giant in this manner if he were quick enough. The man had drawn his arms behind him, and was pounding him in the back with his knees.

"Lay hold of him, Chuck!" shouted the assailant, out of breath. "What are you about?"

"I am getting the rope ready," replied the other, as the first one succeeded in bringing Dory to the ground. "Hold on to him, Angy, and I will soon fix him so that he will keep quiet."

Dory struggled till he found that resistance was useless; and then he submitted, though his spirit chafed violently at the necessity. He realized that he was only one against two, taken by surprise at that, and he could do nothing. He lay upon the wet ground till his captors had bound his arms behind him, and then they assisted him to his feet.

The prisoner had done a great deal of thinking during the last hour or more, and, so far as he was personally concerned, he had done it for nothing. The situation was decidedly unfortunate for him, and he could not help thinking that the marauders were making it worse for themselves.

As soon as they had lifted Dory to his feet, one of them gave a prolonged whistle upon some instrument. There were two of them at the shore, and the prisoner was confident there had been no more than two in the office. If there had been three who passed over the road, he could not have failed to discover their tracks. He had looked in several places, and always with the same result; and he concluded that one of the party had remained with the boat while the others went to "make the break."

By this time it was perfectly evident to Dory that the lantern in the road was a decoy,--a trick to make the pursuers believe that the robbers had returned to the vicinity of Beech Hill. Unhappily for him, the plan had been successful, and he had fallen into the trap. But the marauders had reached the shore where their boat awaited them, and there had been nothing to prevent them from embarking. In the darkness they could easily have made their escape. Dory was unable to explain the action of his captors in this respect.

"We are all right now," said one of the burglars, when they had bound the prisoner. "Do you suppose Mack heard that whistle, Angy?"

"Of course he did, Chuck," replied the one addressed as Angy.

"The wind makes a tremendous noise," suggested Chuck. "I will walk up to that road, if you like, and see if he is coming."

"We are in no hurry, for we can't get out of this bay. It is blowing a hurricane," added Angy.

"But Mack may get into hot water if he goes too far in that direction. They have rung an alarm-bell, and the whole town will turn out: there will be a crowd of them this way before long."

"All right, then: go up to the road, for that light may give them a clew to us," added Angy.

Chuck started up the cart-path, and there was now light enough for him to see his way so that he could move at a rapid pace. Dory looked about him, and strained his muscles a little to ascertain the strength of the cords with which he was bound. It was still too dark for him to see the face of the robber remaining with him; and if he had seen him, he would not have recognized him, for he had not seen him face to face before.

Chuck was not gone ten minutes before he returned with Mack, who had used the dark-lantern in the road. They came back in a hurry, and both of them seemed to be in a flurry. If they were professional burglars, they certainly lacked the coolness of long practice. The dark-lantern had been put out, and Dory could not see the faces of any of the trio.

"They are after us!" exclaimed Mack, with no little trepidation in his manner.

"Of course they are after us," replied Angy, who appeared to be the chief of the party. "The whole neighborhood will be out, for they rung that bell long enough and loud enough to wake the dead. But we are all right now, and you needn't vex your gizzard about any thing."

"But it is daylight, and it will soon be light enough to show us up to all the world," added Mack.

"Dry up, Mack! I am running this machine, and I shall see you through," replied Angy sharply.

The leader took the prisoner by the collar of his coat, and led him to the boat, which the wind had driven back to the beach. He was placed in the bow, while Angy seated himself in the stern. The other two took the oars, and the boat was shoved off.

CHAPTER VII.

THE EFFECTS OF THE EXPLOSION.

Captain Gildrock seemed to sleep the sleep of the just while he was still in the flesh, for he did not immediately appear at the office, as Dory expected. The mansion was some distance from the scene of operations. He heard the earliest peals of the bell on the dormitory; but, unfortunately, Mrs. Dornwood had also heard it, and had been terribly excited by it. The explosion had roused her from her slumbers, though the distance made it less effective at the mansion than at the dormitory.

The good lady was almost in hysterics; and it had taken the captain some time to quiet her, though at last he was able to leave her in the care of Marian. She was sure that the students would all be burned to death, her son among them; for the idea of any other calamity than fire, had not occurred to them.

Captain Gildrock had not heard the explosion; and the ringing of the bell had assured him that no one would be burned to death, though he found it very difficult to make his sister comprehend the absurdity of her fears. He looked out of the window as soon as he left his bed; and, as he could see no light, he was satisfied that the fire had not yet made much progress.

He was a man of discipline, and had trained the students to fire-duty. His sister had mentioned the explosion, but she could not tell any thing about it, except that it was a loud noise. The principal hastened from the house as soon as he could leave Mrs. Dornwood, and he expected to discover the light of the fire as soon as he reached the main avenue that extended through the grounds.

He saw nothing to throw any light on his path, or on the cause of the alarm. When he reached the shops, he found a crowd there, and realized that he was about the last one to reach the scene of the disturbance. There was no fire, and this fact stimulated his curiosity. The bell was to be rung at night, only in case of fire; and it had been pealing out its notes for some time before his arrival.

The students were, of course, in a blaze of excitement, and the instructors were hardly less disturbed. But the principal walked into their midst without any exclamations, with a step hardly more hurried than his usual pace, and there was nothing in the darkness that, could indicate the slightest disturbance in his manner. Though he was a cool man in a trying situation, as his early life on the seas had trained him to be, yet his stolidity was in some measure assumed. He believed, that, if a person in authority could not be calm, it was best for him to pretend to be so, for the benefit of others.

Matt had adopted the suggestion of Dory, and departed in the Marian; but this was all the movement that had been made to meet the circumstances of the case. Dory and the boat's crew were the only absentees when the principal arrived. He looked about him; but he could only see dark forms around, with nothing but the dull light of the lantern Dory had left on the doorstone, to assist his vision.

"There seems to be no fire, or even the smell of smoke here," said Captain Gildrock, as he came into the assemblage in front of the office.

"No, sir: there is no fire," replied Mr. Jepson, who happened to be nearest to him when he halted. "It is robbery, and not fire."

"Then, no one is in danger," added the principal, perhaps with a feeling of relief.

"No one, unless it be the students who are looking for the robbers."

"Of course, you heard the explosion, Captain Gildrock?" interposed Mr. Brookbine.

"I have heard nothing but the ringing of the bell, for I am a sound sleeper at this time in the morning. What was the explosion?" asked the principal, as unmoved as though he had been questioning a class in the schoolroom.

"The safe in the office has been blown up with a dynamite cartridge," replied Mr. Jepson. "I should have thought you would hear it, for it shook all the buildings in this part of the grounds."

"Mrs. Dornwood heard it, but I did not," continued the principal, as he led the way into the office.

He took the lantern in his hand as he advanced, and then asked the instructor in mechanics to light the lamps. While he was doing so, the captain examined the door of the office. It had been bored in several places around the lock, and then pried open. In the room, all was in a state of dire confusion. A large portion of the door of the safe had been blown off, and it was wide open.

"These fellows understood their business," said Captain Gildrock, when he saw how effectual the explosion had been.

"I think they rather overdid the business," added Mr. Jepson. "The cartridge must have been three times as big as was needed to blow off that lock, and that makes me think the burglars had not had much experience in the use of dynamite."

"They evidently intended to use enough to tear off the door," replied the principal.

"But they made a noise like an earthquake, when there was no need of it. It is a wonder to me that they didn't blow the safe all to pieces, and destroy whatever there was in it."

"As I did not hear it, I am not a competent judge of the power of the explosion," added the principal, as he proceeded to examine the interior of the safe.

"I hope the safe did not contain much money," said Mr. Brookbine.

"Over two thousand dollars," replied the captain, with a smile. "I sold a house here, day before yesterday; and, as I have not been to the bank since, the entire payment was in the safe, as well as about one hundred and fifty dollars that was there before."

"Whew!" exclaimed the master-carpenter. "Then, it amounts to a big loss."

"Big enough, though I shall not be ruined by it," answered the principal. "I have ten times that amount in bonds in this safe; and here they are," he continued, as he took a large package of papers from one of the small drawers, one of which had contained the money. "Either the robbers did not want the bonds, or they had not time to find them."

"I don't think they had much time to spare after the racket of the explosion," said Mr. Jepson. "When I got here, the students said Dory was after the robbers back of the shops; and Randolph was leading a boat's crew to the lake."

"It looks as though the robbers had seized the money as soon as they got at it, and did not wait for any thing more. Now, what has been done here?" asked the principal, when he had got possession of the main facts.

"Dory and Matt Randolph were the first to come out of the dormitory, and I think I was the next one," said Oscar Chester.

"Tell me what you know about the matter, Chester," continued the principal.

"Dory and Matt went to the office, and found it had been broken into, and that the explosion had come from there. I thought it was an earthquake. Matt came back after the lanterns just as I came down-stairs, and I helped him light them. He went out then, and I followed him. Then he came back, and rang the bell. I took the rope when he asked me to do so, and he called away a crew for the boat. He told me that Dory was following the burglars back of the shop, and that he was to see that they did not get away in a boat. That is all I know about it, sir."

It was a rather confused statement, though it was correct in the main. Dory was pursuing the marauders alone on foot, and Matt was patrolling the lake to prevent their escape by water.

"I am sorry the students did any thing," said Captain Gildrock. "I should not like to have any of them encounter these villains. Without a doubt, they are armed, and they will fire if they are in danger."

"Don't you think some of us had better see if we can find Dory, sir? He may need some help," suggested Oscar Chester, who had been making up a party to follow Dory when the principal arrived.

"I think Dory will be prudent, and will take care of himself, though he may get into trouble. I shall send no students to assist him," replied the principal decidedly. "The boys will not be called upon to chase such desperadoes as professional burglars must be. But you may take a crew, and go in one of the four-oar boats in search of Randolph. Tell him to come ashore."

Oscar departed on his mission, disappointed that he had not been detailed to re-enforce Dory, and assist in the search.

"I am ready to do any thing that I can," added Mr. Jepson; and Mr. Brookbine said the same.

"The burglars have simplified the matter to some extent for us," said the principal, as he seated himself in his arm-chair, as though he did not intend to fret himself at all about the robbery. "The wind is blowing a fierce gale on the lake; and I should not send out a boat on such a night as this manned by the students, or by any one, unless it was to save life. The rascals cannot escape by water. The stormy lake shuts them in on that side."

"I don't think I ever knew it to blow so hard as it does to-night," added Mr. Jepson.

"If Dory and Randolph come back all right, I shall be perfectly satisfied, even if the robbers escape with their plunder. All we have to do is to hem in the land-side of the region about the school, and the constables then may hunt the burglars at their leisure," continued the principal. "Now, if you are willing to do so, I should like to have you go in search of Dory.

"He must have followed the cart-path through the quarries, and crossed the bridge. I don't ask you to quarrel with the burglars, if you find them, but simply to send Dory back," said the principal, after a short period of silence. "Collins!"

"Here, sir," replied the gardener.

"Have Dick harnessed to the buggy, and Kate to the buckboard."

The machinist and the carpenter prepared for the duty assigned to them. The former put his revolver in his pocket, while the latter took his rifle. Mr. Brookbine was given to deer-hunting, and knew all about the Adirondack region, on the other side of the lake. But it was daylight when they started; and they were too late to find Dory in the road, where he had remained so long.

They were not even near enough to the scene of Dory's disaster to hear the whistle the chief of the burglars had sounded, or to see the light carried by Mack in the road. The light was the engine of Angy's strategy; and the open part of the dark-lantern was turned in the other direction, for the benefit of Dory. But Mack had heard them in the distance; for the two men had been shouting, to inform Dory of their approach.

Professor Bentnick and Mr. Darlingby were sent to one part of Genverres to procure the aid of a couple of constables, while the principal notified two other men who were deputy-sheriffs. He visited the telegraph-office, and left several messages, to be sent to Burlington, and to all the towns around that were in connection with Genverres by wires.

The students were all sent to bed again, but probably not many of them slept after the excitement of the early morning. Matt and his party were discovered by Oscar Chester while they were patrolling the shore, without having obtained a sight or a sound to encourage them. They obeyed the order of the principal; though they were satisfied that the robbers had not been on Beechwater, or the creek above it.

At five o'clock all the students except Dory were in their beds.

CHAPTER VIII.

SOME DIFFERENCES OF OPINION.

Dory Dornwood had seen the La Motte when she was lying in the river, and knew that a party from her had visited the school, though he had not been near them. He had passed the schooner in the barge, but without noticing the persons on board of her. Mr. Michael Angelo Spickles was the chief of the party, and the principal operator in the robbery at the office of the institution. But the prisoner knew nothing whatever about him.

The arm of Kingsland Bay where the marauders embarked was less than a quarter of a mile wide, and the water was almost as smooth as on a calm day. The bay itself did not average more than half a mile wide; and they were not likely to experience any rough weather within its limits, as they were a full mile from the open lake.

The members of the party had not said a word to Dory, and had hardly noticed him since they finished binding his arms behind him. He was left to himself, and he had abundant opportunity for reflection. He was not a little humiliated because he had allowed himself to be captured so easily, but he could not see how it would have been possible for him to help himself.

It was useless to consider the past, for it was all gone; and he could not undo any thing that had been done. He had been captured, and he was in the hands of the enemy. Mack reported the advance of a party from Beech Hill, but they were too late to be of any service to him. The future was a blank to him, and he could only wait for events as they occurred. But he was satisfied that the boat could not get out of the bay while the present storm raged.

"We are all right now," said Angy, as the boat receded from the shore in the gloom of the morning. "We lost all this time on your account, Chuck; and I shall fine you for it when we divide."

"I don't think I am to blame for it," replied Chuck, who was pulling the bow-oar, next to Dory.

"You don't think you were to blame!" exclaimed Angy angrily. "Didn't you speak out loud when we were within a few rods of this chap we have picked up? Didn't you make it necessary to capture this fellow, so that he should not see us?"

"Perhaps I made a little noise when I saw the flash of light, but I didn't say any thing," pleaded Chuck.

"You made noise enough for him to hear you, and to let him know where we were; and I shall fine you fifty dollars out of your share," added the chief, as though he were talking to a delinquent schoolboy.

"Perhaps you will: if you do, you will wish you hadn't done it," replied the culprit, who did not seem to be in a submissive mood.

"Didn't you agree to obey orders, Chuck?" demanded Angy savagely.

"That is just what I have done; and if I was surprised into making a little sound when that fellow struck a light close to us, I am not going to be robbed for it," protested the delinquent.

"What are you going to do about it?" growled Angy.

"I can only tell you what I'm not going to do yet: I shall not submit to being robbed," said Chuck.

It looked a little like a quarrel among the marauders, and Dory hoped he might be able to derive some advantage from the disagreement. But they had said enough to enable him to explain why he had been made a prisoner. The burglars had evidently kept the run of him since he came into the road, and they were not willing that any one should know they had departed by water.

Probably they reasoned that he was alone, because they heard no voices, for one pursuer would not do any talking. When he lighted the match to examine the road, he had exposed himself; and then, if not before, the fugitives saw that they could remove the only one on their track by making him a prisoner.

The boat pulled out of the arm of the bay, and then followed the shore on the west side, which entirely sheltered it from the violence of the blast. But it soon reached a point where the crew could hear the terrific roar of the storm on the open lake. The effect of the heavy waves could be felt in the bay, and the boat began to tumble about.

"It is blowing a young hurricane," said Mack, when the roar of the tempest could be heard in its intensity. "We shall never be able to reach the vessel. I think we are just beginning to find the rough side of this scrape."

"None of your croaking, Mack!" added the chief sharply. "We have found our way out of this bay, and we are all right; and we must be on board of the schooner before it is light enough for us to be seen from the shore. I know where we are now."

"Then, you know we are in a tight place," added Mack. "It is light enough now for you to see that the lake looks like a snow-bank, it is so covered with foam from the waves. This boat will not live in that sea."

"We shall soon see whether it will or not," said Angy, as he shifted the helm so as to direct the boat across the entrance of the bay.

The boat was the tender of the La Motte, and was not more than twelve feet long. It was a sort of yawl, and the four persons in it was a full freight for it. The sea was heavy at the mouth of the bay, though the trend of the coast partially sheltered it from the full fury of the blast.

Skilfully handled, and with her head up to the wind, she would have stood it very well; but Angy seemed to have a contempt for a fresh-water lake, and did not believe that any dangerous sea could prevail on its waters. The lake in a violent storm is worse than the ocean,--a truth he had yet to learn. He took the sea quartering; and the boat began to pitch and roll, both at the same time, in a manner that suggested disaster to Mack, if not to the others.

"This won't do!" shouted he, as a wave drenched him to the skin.

"It will do very well, Mack!" replied Angy, with energy. "You have been out in a heavy sea before, and you needn't croak."

Mack continued to pull his oar. Five minutes later, the boat took in a sea on the windward side, which filled it half full. Dory had been wet through in the first of it, and he was considering the probability of being drowned with his arms tied behind him so that he could do nothing to help himself.

"Pull steady!" called Angy, apparently undismayed by the situation, as he took the bucket in the stern, and began to bail out the boat.

"What's the use of pulling?" cried Mack, though he was sailor enough to know that the boat was likely to fall off into the trough of the sea if he ceased to use his oar. "It is getting worse and worse every fathom you go ahead, Angy."

"I can't help it if it is: we are in for it now, and we can't come about if we want to do so," replied the chief, who was beginning to have a little more respect for fresh-water waves.

"We can't stand this," interposed Chuck, who had been nursing his wrath in silence. "We had better be taken than drowned."

"I don't think so," answered Angy. "I will keep her away a little so that she will run before it, and we shall do very well. This blow comes from the southward, and it won't last long."

"It will last long enough to drown the whole of us," shouted Mack, loud enough to be heard above the roar of the tempest. "If you don't do something to ease her off, I shall stop rowing."

"If you don't mean to obey orders, Mack, say so; and you know I have a revolver in my pocket," said the chief.

"And I have another," replied Mack.

"I told you that I was going to let her fall off, and run before it. What more do you want?" demanded Angy, disgusted at the mutinous conduct of the oarsmen.

Neither of the rowers said any thing more then, and were evidently willing to wait for the effect of the change in the course. The boat was now about half way across the entrance of the bay. It was light enough to enable the crew to see the opposite shore at the point, where the waves were rolling on the beach, and piling themselves in great white masses of foam.

As the boat advanced, the sea became more angry. Before the chief could bail out the water, the craft took in another wave, and even Angy began to realize that the boat was in a perilous situation. He gradually shifted the helm until the boat was running for the shore a considerable distance from the point.

But the change in the course had wrought no miracle in the situation. The farther she went from the lee shore on the south, the rougher was the sea. Though Dory was rather a noted swimmer among the students, the accomplishment was not likely to be of much service to him with his arms tied behind him.

"We are not getting out of it a bit," shouted Mack. "Come about, Angy, and make for the shore on the other side of the bay."

"How can I come about in this sea?" demanded the captain. "You know as well as I do, that if she gets into the trough of the sea, she will go over."

"We are sure to go over, as it is; and we might as well try it, and work towards the lee-shore of the bay," persisted Mack.

"Will you obey orders, or not?" cried Angy savagely.

"No, I won't obey such orders as you are giving!" exclaimed the mutineer. "I believe you mean to drown the whole of us."

As he spoke, he drew in his oar, which was on the lee-side, for the skipper had not yet got the boat before it. The tender of the La Motte fell off into the trough of the sea, and began to roll, as though she was intent upon spilling her burden into the water. Chuck could not row after his companion ceased to do so.

"Drop into the bottom of the boat," said Dory, in a low tone, to the bow-oarsman, as he drew in his oar.

Chuck complied with this request. He evidently regarded this suggestion as a favor; and, without saying a word, he untied the rope that secured Dory's arms. He had hardly done so before the boat shipped a sea, and rolled over.

CHAPTER IX.

UNDER THE LEE OF GARDINER'S ISLAND.

The boat dipped herself half full of water as soon as the two burglars ceased to pull, and this weight of movable fluid increased her capacity for rolling. At the next wave she went over, and the four persons in her were spilled into the lake. All of them hung on to the overturned tender, though, in the commotion of the waves, it was not an easy thing to do so.

Two of the party hung on at each side, and the water-logged boat was steadied a little by their weight. Angy, in spite of the difficulties of the situation, opened in a savage assault upon his companions, with his flippant tongue, for their disobedience of orders, declaring that their conduct had produced the disaster, which was quite true.

"We are no worse off than we were in the boat, and it isn't any wetter in the water than it was on board of her," replied Mack, who had caused the mischief. "I had rather be here than in the boat off that point, where you were trying to take us."

"I shall fine you both for disobedience of orders," growled Angy.

"That will make two fines saddled on me; and I suppose you mean to rob me wholly of my share," added Chuck, as he emptied his mouth of the lake-water, which had dashed in when he opened it.

"I don't submit to any fine because I wouldn't let you drown me," added Mack.

"I think it is more comfortable here than it was in the boat," said Chuck. "The wind is driving us to the shore, and we shall be on the land in a few minutes."

"How did that fellow get loose?" demanded Angy, when he discovered that Dory was holding on at the boat, like the rest of them.

"I let him loose when I saw that the boat was sure to be upset. I suppose that is another fine," replied Chuck.

"We shall be in hot water instead of cold, now," said Angy, who was certainly realizing the full benefit of having a mutinous crew.

"I didn't mean to let him drown, as he would when he couldn't help himself," added Chuck. "I will tie him up again as soon as we get to the shore."

"It is no use to go on an expedition with such fellows as you are; and I will never do it again," said Angy bitterly.

The boat seemed to be making quite as much progress with the crew on the outside of it, as she had when they were on the inside. A little later, Chuck, who was at the bow of the boat, declared that he felt the bottom with his feet. At that moment a big wave struck the boat, and drove them on the beach.

"Hold on to the boat!" shouted Angy. "Pick it up, and carry it up on the shore! It will be smashed on the gravel, if you don't."

The party took hold of the tender, and dragged it towards the land. Before they could get it out of the water, the big waves knocked them off their feet several times, and piled them up in a heap. The boat pounded heavily on the gravel; and if it had not been well built, it would have had some holes knocked in the bottom. But, after a desperate struggle with the elements, they succeeded in getting out of the reach of the waves.

The moment the party stood on the beach, Angy threw himself upon Dory, and brought him down. As before, he had taken him behind. Several times the chief had called upon him to assist in dragging the boat out of the water, but the prisoner felt that it would be treason to society to assist in saving the tender. He made no reply, and Angy swore at him as a pirate would have done. All the party were panting from the violence of their exertion, and Dory had not expected an attack before they recovered their breath.

The leader was stimulated by wrath more than by a desire to secure the safe retreat of his party, and he handled his prisoner very roughly. Hardly able to breathe, he kicked his victim, and pounded him with his fist. Dory was not in a situation to resist, and his arms were soon bound behind him.

Bluff Point, on which they had been driven by the fury of the storm, was not more than an eighth of a mile across at the place where they were. Angy, as soon as he had fastened his prisoner to a small tree, started to walk over to the water on the other side. He was gone but a few minutes.

"We haven't any time to lose, fellows," said he. "We must carry the boat across this point to the water."

"Carry the boat!" exclaimed Mack. "It weighs half a ton!"

"Do you prefer to go around that point?" asked Angy, with a sneer, which it was not light enough to see.

"Of course we can't go around the point, for the sea is awful there," replied Mack, in a more subdued tone. "Why can't we stay where we are till the storm subsides a little?"

"And let old Squalipop send a squad here to capture us! Is that your idea?" asked the chief.

"Not exactly. They will not be likely to come here to look for us. This fellow did not go back to tell him that we had come this way. How heavy is the boat?"

"It is not very heavy, and three of us can carry it well enough," answered Angy. "If that fellow would take hold and help us, it would be a light load for four of us."

"Perhaps he will," added Mack. "Will you, my lad?"

"I will not," replied Dory firmly.

"Why not?"

"I will not assist in your escape after you have committed a crime," the prisoner explained.

"What is your name, my boy?" asked Chuck.

"Dory Dornwood."

"Dory Dornwood!" exclaimed Angy, with no little astonishment. "I heard Matt tell all about you last summer, and I don't need any introduction to you. He said you could whip your weight in wild-cats, and would die of thirst before you would drink a glass of beer."

"I am not a fighting character," added Dory.

"I should say not! I have handled you twice; and I don't know that I should have dared to touch you if I had known who and what you were," chuckled the leader. "But let us take hold of the boat, and see what we can do with it."

"Won't you give us a lift, Dory?" asked Chuck. "I did you a good turn in the boat."

"I cannot do any thing to assist in your escape, though I should be glad to reciprocate your kind act," replied the prisoner.

"It's no use to waste words with him," interposed Angy. "He is the paragon of that school, and goes to the Sunday school."

They raised the boat from the beach, and Mack declared that it was not half as heavy as he had supposed. They rested several times, and carried it to the water on the other side of the point without any great difficulty. Angy returned for the prisoner as soon as they had put the boat into the lake, and conducted him to it. He was put in the bow, where he had been before.

The water was sheltered by the point; and though it was rough anywhere on the lake, it was smooth compared with its condition outside of the bluff. It was just a mile from Bluff Point to Gardiner's Island, beyond which Dory discovered the two masts of a vessel anchored there. He had already heard enough to assure him that the burglars had composed the crew of the schooner which had anchored in Beaver River. A portion of them had visited the school, and in this way had obtained some knowledge of the premises.

"This storm won't last much longer," said Angy, as he looked out on the stormy lake. "The wind is hauling more to the westward."

"What's the reason we can't stay here a while, then, and wait till the sea isn't quite so rough?" asked Mack, who evidently did not like the looks of the water between the point and the island, smooth as it was compared with the open lake.

"How long do you suppose it will be before the men you heard in the road will be down this way?" demanded Angy, with his chronic sneer.

"They may not be here at all. They will take it for granted that we don't go out on the lake in this weather; and it is a sensible view to take of it," added Mack.

"But they were coming this way when you heard them; and you forget the plan I laid down to you yesterday afternoon," continued the chief, in a more persuasive tone. "We don't want any one to know that the party who did this job belong to the schooner. That would spoil all our plans, and expose us; and this is the last of the jobs we had on our hands."

"All right, Angy," replied Mack, who seemed to be convinced by the argument. "But if we all get drowned in this scrape, we shall not make much headway in the fun you have laid out for us."

"I TOLD YOU TO GO ON BOARD THE SCHOONER," ADDED ANGY.--PAGE 108.

"The sea isn't very rough off here; and as the wind has hauled more to the westward, we shall go before it, and keep out of the trough of it," Angy explained: and he seemed to be the authority in all nautical matters.

"Just as you say, Angy. If the boat upsets, as it did before, we shall be just as comfortable in the water; and the wind will take us just where we want to go."

The experience of the party in the water seemed to increase rather than diminish their confidence, for they had learned that the disaster of swamping the boat was not necessarily fatal. Near the shore the water was quite smooth, and the leader shoved the tender off. The two rowers gave way, and the boat moved away from the point. In a few moments it was in a rough sea; but the chief kept the craft exactly before it without regard to his destination, and it went along very well.

It was not smooth sailing, and the boat jumped like a galloping horse. But the rowers were used to pulling in a heavy sea, though they had never been in one like that of the lake. Dory was sitting with his back to the course of the boat, and he watched the shore with the most intense interest. He was sure his uncle would send a party to find him; though the pursuers might follow the road for many miles, if they did not resort to the Indian craft which had been of so much assistance to him.

Before the boat had made a fourth part of the distance it had to accomplish, it began to rain. It came down in torrents, though it could not make the party any wetter than they were already. It had rained all the first part of the night, and now it seemed like a smart shower which would soon be over.

"This is just the thing we want," said Angy, in cheerful tones, and in much better humor than he had been at any time before.

"Why is it just the thing? Do you think it will lay the dust?" asked Mack.

"Not exactly: it will throw the dust into the eyes of the men who are trying to follow us. The heavy rain is making a thick cloud on the water, so that they can't see us. You can hardly make out the shore now," replied Angy.

But the wind blew the rain in the faces of the rowers with so much force that they could not keep their eyes open much of the time. Assisted by the gale, the boat drove furiously ahead. Occasionally a sea came in over the stern, and the skipper had to use the bucket. She soon reached the island; and when the boat came under its lee, their troubles for the present were over. The La Motte was pitching violently at her anchor when they boarded her.

CHAPTER X.

A BATTLE WITH THE ELEMENTS.

The two oarsmen sprang on board of the La Motte, Chuck taking the painter. The schooner was not anchored near enough to the island to shelter her entirely from the fury of the blast, and she was making rather rough weather of it. The tender banged against her sides, and Angy was in a hurry to get on board.

"Come, Dory!" shouted he to his prisoner. "Heave ahead, and go on board!"

Dory tried to stand up, but the uneasy motion of the boat prevented him from doing so successfully. He was compelled to resume his seat as often as he tried to do so, or he would have been knocked overboard.

"What are you about, you squillypod? Why don't you obey orders? I told you to go on board of the schooner," added Angy.

"You can see for yourself that it is impossible for me to do so with my hands tied behind," replied Dory, in his usual calm tones.

"That's so," added Chuck, who stood at the gangway with the painter in his hand. "No fellow could stand up in that boat with his hands tied behind him."

"Do you want me to let him loose?" demanded Angy. "Not if I know myself!"

"All right; have your own way," added Chuck.

"Put yourself on your pins now, Squillypod!" said the chief sharply. "I am not going to fool all day with you. Get on board of the schooner, and then you will be out of trouble."

"It is useless for me to attempt to do an impossible thing," replied Dory. "The bulwarks of the vessel are three feet above the boat, and I can't step that distance. The only way to get on board is to take hold with the hands, and climb up. I think you can see that for yourself. I am willing to go on board, and I would do so if I could. It is impossible to stand up in the boat."

"Come along and try it, and I will boost you up," Angy insisted.

"He can't do it," added Chuck. "Try to stand up yourself with your hands free, and you will see how it is, Angy."

"Shut up, Chuck! If you interfere with me again, I will throw you overboard. I want you to understand that I am in command here, and I won't let any fellow meddle with my affairs," said the chief angrily. "I will put another fine down against you."

"All right; fix things to suit yourself!" replied Chuck, as mad as his superior in rank. "I have had about enough of this thing, if I am to be snubbed like a school-boy."

As he spoke, he spitefully threw down the rope in his hand, apparently forgetting that it was the painter of the tender which contained his chief and the prisoner. A swashing wave at that moment took the boat, and swept it far from the schooner. Then Chuck realized what he had done, and he made a spring to recover the rope. He saw the end of it drag over the bulwarks, and drop into the boiling waters.

"What are you about, Chuck?" demanded Angy, overwhelmed by the consequences of his subordinate's wrath. "You have turned me adrift."

Chuck understood this as well as his leader, and he had done his best to recover the painter; but he was as powerless to do any thing more, as though he had been on the top of Bluff Point.

"I did not mean to let go the painter," shouted he; but this honest declaration did no good at all.

Angy was alone in the tender with the prisoner. He did not blame his own unreasonableness in trying to make his companion do an impossible thing, but he charged all the fault upon his mutinous subordinate. But there he was, and his associates on board of the La Motte could not do a thing to assist him. The fierce wind was driving the boat away from the vessel, and the chief must act at once if ever.

He seized the oars with a sort of desperation, as the serious nature of the situation impressed itself on his mind. He seated himself on the after thwart, and shipped the oars. The tender had begun to drift stern foremost; and she had already whirled round once, as the waves lifted her almost out of the water. The boat was too wide to permit one to row two-handed with ease, and he had to do his work under a decided disadvantage.

His first effort was to get the boat head to the sea, and he had nearly swamped her in his struggle to do so. But he succeeded in the end, though the tender was half full of water when he got her about. Then he began to pull with all his might. He certainly made a plucky and determined attempt to get the better of the elements, though the result could not be foreseen.

The weather was warm and muggy in spite of the gale, which some experienced skippers on the lake called a hurricane; and the perspiration poured in great drops from the face of the desperate burglar. The rain still fell in sheets, and in a short time the cloud would cover the water so that he could not see the vessel or the island. Angy worked as though his salvation in this world and the next depended upon his success.

Dory was unable to determine whether the accident to the boat was to be a chance or a mischance to him. The boat was half full of water; and if the burglar lost his pluck, and gave up rowing, the tender would fall off into the trough of the sea, and probably capsize again. With his arms bound behind him, he could not well avoid being drowned, though he felt that he had some chance of saving himself, shackled as he was.

He had lost sight of the island, and the schooner would soon disappear. He looked behind him occasionally, in order to keep his bearings as long as there was any thing in sight in that direction. Ahead of him, although Camp-Meeting Point was less than a mile distant, there was nothing but the cloud of fog and rain to be seen. He was especially interested to know whether or not the burglar was making any progress towards the schooner. He had lost sight of the island, which he could see when the rower was getting the boat about; and, as the vessel was seen less distinctly than when he began to pull ahead, he concluded that he was losing instead of gaining.

The drops of rain and sweat poured from Angy's face as he struggled with the oars. Dory admitted to himself that the rower handled his implements skilfully; but he did not believe any man could make headway against such a sea, which had considerably increased in force as the boat went farther from Bluff Point.

It was soon evident to Dory that the powers of Angy were failing him. Through the spray that beat against the bow of the tender, and dashed over him, he looked for the schooner, which was almost out of sight. It was clear enough now, if it had not been so before, that the tender was losing ground. The strength, and perhaps the pluck, of Angy were giving out.

Dory watched the face of the chief with increasing interest when the result of the battle with the elements was no longer a problem to him. Angy was breathing rapidly, for he had well-nigh exhausted the reservoir of his breath. The observer came to the conclusion that he had given up the struggle, and was simply pulling to prevent the tender from falling off into the trough of the sea. Gradually he remitted his exertions, until he did only enough to keep the boat's head up to the sea. Dory could easily realize that he was considering what he should do.

It did not look as though he could do any thing. Relieved by moderating his efforts, he recovered his breath, and slowly improved his condition. Dory was behind him; though the oarsman turned his head often enough to enable him to see his face, and judge what was passing in his mind. When Angy had in some measure recovered his powers, he turned more than he had at any time before, and took a look at his prisoner. Dory was making himself as comfortable as he could, though this is saying very little.

"See here, Squillypod! I want you to come into the stern of the boat, for she is down too much by the head," said he, without suspending his labor at the oars. "Work yourself aft, feet foremost, and don't try to stand up."

This order looked as though the burglar intended to resort to some new expedient. Any thing for a change was satisfactory to Dory, and he obeyed the order. With his foot he removed the forward thwart, on which the second rower had been seated, and then worked himself past it, on the bottom of the boat.

"Now stop where you are," said Angy, as soon as he reached his seat.

Dory obeyed, and remained seated in the bottom of the tender, directly behind the rower. Then, not a little to the astonishment of the prisoner, Angy began to untie the cords which bound him. He did the job by fits and starts, being obliged to use one or the other oar occasionally to keep the boat from falling off. But he finished the task, and Dory found that he was free; and it was a delightful sensation to be able to change the position of his arms.

As soon as he was released, without waiting for any order from the burglar, he moved aft to the stern-sheets of the boat. While he was doing so, Angy shifted to the forward thwart, keeping the oars at work all the time, with hardly a moment's intermission.

"Now take the other oar, Squillypod!" said the chief, in imperative tones.

"Where are we to go?" asked Dory.

"Where are we to go! None of your business where we are going! Obey my order, or it will be the worse for you!" returned Angy.

"If you are going to the shore, I will pull the other oar: if you are going back to the schooner I will not pull a stroke," added Dory.

"Won't you?" howled the robber, with an oath which was colder to the prisoner's blood than the angry elements. "I will see if you won't! I am going to the schooner, and you are going to pull that oar!"

As he spoke, he drew a revolver from his hip-pocket. Dory did not like the looks of this implement; but he could not assist the burglar to escape, and he took no notice of it. Angy raised the weapon hastily, and pulled the trigger. It was soaked with water, and did not go off. Dory did not wait for a second trial, but threw himself on the robber.

CHAPTER XI.

THE TURNING OF THE TABLES.

Dory Dornwood had made no promises in order to procure his release from the bonds with which he had been secured, and he felt free to fight his way out of the scrape into which he had fallen, if he could. Mr. Michael Angelo Spickles had looked, talked, and acted as though he regarded his prisoner with the utmost contempt.

They did not live in the same moral atmosphere, in the first place; and the leader of the robbers had heard something of the prowess of Dory from Matt Randolph. By taking him in the rear, he had twice overcome him, and tied his arms behind him. Perhaps the fact that he had been able to do so was the most direct source of his contempt. He went to Sunday school, as Angy described his general character; and he did not believe that a lamb of this sort could be a lion when the occasion required.

Angy had been perfectly sure that the exhibition of his revolver would reduce the prisoner to complete subjection if he proved to be refractory after he had released him. He had not intended to shoot him, when he snapped the weapon at him, for he knew something of the consequences of such a murderous act. But Dory did not "scare" as readily as he had supposed he would, and the fact that he was a Sunday-school scholar did not make a coward of him.

As soon as the revolver missed fire, Dory decided not to wait for a dryer cartridge to explode. The boat was jumping on the waves at a furious rate, and was in the act of falling off into the trough of the sea when Angy made his demonstration with the pistol. To prevent this, he had attempted to use his oars. Dory made a long spring, and threw himself on the chief of the burglars.

He came down upon him like a heavy body dropped from some point overhead. The thwart on which Angy was seated slipped out of its place under the concussion, and the two combatants came down in the bottom of the boat. Dory seized his intended victim by the throat, and contrived to get his legs on the arms of the fallen leader. Then he choked him with all his might as he struggled to free himself from this fierce embrace.

The boat fell off into the trough of the sea, and the water poured in upon them. Dory saw, that, if the affair was not finished very quickly, the conclusion of it would have to be reached in the water, with no boat under him. But no human being could stand the amount of choking inflicted upon Angy, and he soon weakened under the punishment. With a sudden movement, Dory turned him over on his face, and crowded his head down into the water in the bottom of the boat.

The rope with which Dory had been bound was within his reach; and, as soon as the resistance under him would permit, he grasped it with one hand, while he held the victim with the other. Angy realized what he was doing, even while his breath was bubbling in the water under him; and he made his last effort to shake off the Sunday-school scholar. But he was too weak to accomplish any thing, and he had to give up the battle.

It was the work of but a moment for Dory to tie his arms behind him, though he did it in the most thorough manner. He picked up the revolver, and put it in his pocket. Then he dragged the fallen chief to the stern-sheets, and dumped him in the bottom. The tables had turned, and the leading spirit of the Nautifelers Club was the prisoner. He was utterly exhausted by his choking and his useless struggles, and he lay catching his breath where his conqueror had thrown him.

Dory realized that he had no time to spare, if he intended to get the boat to the shore right side up. He sprang to the oars, and brought the tender around before the wind. He was too tired himself to row, and he simply kept the craft from getting into any dangerous situation. With one hand he bailed out the boat, while he used an oar with the other.

Angy was rapidly recovering from the effects of the battle, and he worked himself into a sitting position. Then he looked about him, and especially at the stalwart young man in front of him, whose prowess he had held in contempt. He did what Dory had done a dozen times while he was a prisoner,--he essayed to test the strength of his bonds; but they had been adjusted by one who was skilled in handling rigging. He said nothing, but the situation looked very bad to him. The Sunday-school scholar was not an infant, and Angy was willing now to believe what Matt Randolph had told him about the paragon of the school.

Dory bailed out the boat till it was comfortable in her, and then he hastened the progress of the craft by the use of the oars. It still rained in torrents, but there was a light in the east which indicated that it was the "clearing-up shower." Looking behind him, Dory discovered the land, and felt something like Columbus on another occasion. He knew just where he was; and he changed the course of the tender, in order to make a little cove.

Before he could get to the shore, the rain ceased, and the mist cleared off from the surface of the water. Suddenly the hurricane seemed to subside. The clouds, which had been dense and black overhead, began to break. It ended, like all storms in this locality which come from the south, as abruptly as it begun.

The La Motte could be seen quite distinctly, for she was hardly a mile distant. The four robbers on board of her were hoisting the foresail, which looked as though it had been reefed; and they were evidently going in search of their lost chief. Dory was happy enough to smile, and he did smile; for he was out of the reach of any pursuers in a large vessel. The wind had greatly abated its violence; and Dory had been obliged to pull some distance from his former course, in order to make the creek. But the water was shallow around him, and the schooner could not come near the land.

The inlet was the mouth of a brook, and he pulled some distance into it. When he came to a good place to land, he leaped ashore, and hauled up the bow out of the water. Without a small boat, it was simply impossible for the crew of the La Motte to follow him, even if they succeeded in finding him.

Dory was tired enough to seat himself on a rock, and recover his exhausted powers. He had a prisoner, and a resolute one, and he must get him to the school in some manner. It was likely to be hard work. He took Angy's revolver from his pocket: he wiped the water off its barrels and stock. Then he examined the cartridges. They were metallic, and ought not to be affected by the water. Aiming at a small tree, he discharged one of the barrels, and found it went off as well as it would if it had not been in the water.

"That shooter served me a bad turn," said Angy. "I never knew it to miss before."

"It served me a good turn if you aimed at me when you tried to fire it," added Dory. "However, it seems to be in condition to be useful to me if I have occasion to use it."

Its present possessor put it back into his pocket. He resolved to manage his case so well that he would have no occasion to use such a deadly weapon, and he shuddered at the very thought of firing at a human being.

"You have got ahead of me, Dory," continued Angy, bestowing a searching look upon his captor. "Chuck ruined me when he threw that painter overboard."

"In a moral point of view, that act may be your salvation," added Dory.

"I don't think I care about hearing any Sunday-school talk on this subject," replied Angy, with a scornful look on his face. "The time has not yet come for my punishment."

"Not just yet; but after you have thought of this thing for three or five years in the State prison, you may come to the conclusion that the Sunday school is not a bad institution for a fellow like you. If you had attended one, and given heed to its instructions, you would feel a good deal better than you do now."

"I say, Dory, can't we fix this thing up now?" asked Angy.

"Certainly we can; and that is just what we are going to do," replied Dory cheerfully. "I am only waiting a little while to rest. Then we will fix it up."

"You are a good fellow, or you could not have got the upper hands of me."

"Then you must be a good fellow, or you could not have rendered me the same service."

"I don't think you understand me," continued Angy uneasily. "I suppose you like money, if you do go to Sunday school."

"I don't object to money: at least, I have no grudge against it."

"That's sensible; and I will give you a thousand dollars in cash on the spot, if you will go home without me. Just untie my arms, and let me pull off to the schooner, and it will be all right. You can go on the biggest temperance spree you ever heard of on that sum," said Angy earnestly.

"Spot cash?"

"Spot cash."

"You carry a good deal of money about with you, I see."

"I happen to have it with me. You can take the money, and old Squalipop will be none the wiser for what you have done."

"Won't he?"

"Not a bit of it! I shall get out of the way, and he won't know that you and I have met."

"But I shall know it myself, and that will be just as unfortunate as though he knew it."

"You can go back with a thousand dollars in your pocket, which will come handy during vacation."

"Go back with a thousand dollars in my pocket," repeated Dory, as though he was musing over it. "A thousand dollars is a good thing to have, and it is twice as good to have two thousand. I don't think I shall be satisfied with one thousand. But I think you had better come on shore, Angy. I won't ask you to do an impossible thing, and I will help you."

Dory took the robber by the collar of his wet coat, and assisted him to the shore. Angy made no resistance, though he evidently did not like the proceedings of his captor. Dory seated him on a rock, and Angy continued to argue in favor of the arrangement he had proposed.

"Do you really carry a thousand dollars about you? I have my doubts; and if you have no objections, I should like to satisfy myself on this point," continued Dory; and as he spoke, he proceeded to make an examination of the pockets of his prisoner.

"But I do object!" protested the prisoner, as he sprang to his feet with an effort, and began to whirl about like a top. "Don't put your hand on me!"

"Be calm and gentle, Angy," replied Dory, as he took the prisoner by the collar, and tripped him up, so that he was forced to lie down, in spite of himself.

With his foot on the form of his victim, Dory thrust his hand into all the pockets of Angy; and from the one inside of his vest, he drew out a pocket-book, thoroughly soaked with water. He opened it, and found a roll of bank-bills, which had been hastily tumbled into one of the pockets. He unrolled the bills enough to find four five-hundred-dollar notes, which assured him that the money had been taken from his uncle's safe.

"I will keep this pocket-book for you," said he.

The prisoner was furious, and began to kick at his captor.

CHAPTER XII.

DORY DORNWOOD RESORTS TO STRATEGY.

"Do you mean to rob me, Squillipod?" demanded Angy, and he kicked away at the legs of his conqueror. "Is this a Sunday-school accomplishment?"

"I said I was going to keep the money for you. Besides, as I said before, it is better to have two thousand dollars than one thousand," replied Dory, with his usual good nature.

"But you are stealing it from me!" gasped the angry robber.

"You appear to have forgotten where you got this money, Angy."

"That is nothing to do with it. What is mine belongs to me."

"All right; and it belongs to me just now."

"Do you mean to rob me of my money?" demanded the vanquished chief, who did not seem to be capable yet of realizing his situation.

"Not exactly; but if you insist upon using that ugly word, I am only going to rob you of what you stole from my uncle," replied Dory, as he put the pocket-book into the inside of his vest.

Without another word, the desperate chief rushed upon Dory, and made an effort to upset him by lying down upon him, and kicking his shins. Of course he could not accomplish any thing, though he made his captor dance a jig in his attempts to escape the savage kicks of his prisoner. But he was soon tired of this fruitless labor, and he stood still again. It looked as though he had just begun to understand that Dory was in earnest, and that he had lost the battle. Both of them looked at each other, and then out upon the lake, which could be seen across the neck of land.

The La Motte had got up her anchor, and under a reefed foresail was standing towards the shore. When Angy saw her, he gave a yell that could be heard half a mile. His companions heard him, and immediately headed the schooner in the direction from which the cry had come. One of those on board gave an answering yell.

"It is useless to wait for her," said Dory, who would not have denied that he felt some anxiety.

"I think I shall wait for her," replied Angy.

"You will have to wait till the end of the year, then; for that schooner will be aground in less than five minutes if she keeps on that course."

One of the burglars was at the bow, sounding. The vessel was within the eighth of a mile of the shore. Suddenly she came about, and the anchor was let go. They had found they could come no nearer to the shore. Then they began to shout the name of Angy.

"I think we won't wait here any longer," said Dory, placing his hand on the collar of his prisoner.

"I think we will," replied Angy, as he began to kick again.

Dory was obliged to knock him down again. Taking hold of his coat-collar with both hands, he dragged him away from the inlet. By taking frequent rests, he succeeded in moving him out of hailing-distance of the schooner, though he could just hear the yells of the robbers on board of her. Angy did not yell any more. The mode of transportation adopted by Dory was not an agreeable one, and Angy promised to walk if his captor would allow him to get up.

"You have knocked the skin all off my legs," said he, as Dory assisted him to rise.

"I want you to understand that I am going to take you to the Beech Hill Industrial School, Angy, and if you get hurt on the way, it will be your own fault," said Dory impressively.

"I can't stand being dragged like a dead snake, and I will walk," answered Angy. "But you don't mean that you are going to hand me over to old Squalipop?"

"I am going to hand you over to Captain Gildrock, the principal of our school."

"But this was nothing but a lark on the part of our fellows, the members of the Nautifelers Club. We are up here to have some fun; and you ought not to make a serious thing of it," said Angy, trying to be amiable again.

"Blow up a safe in the night, and take over two thousand dollars from it, and that is nothing but a lark! You can present that argument to the principal; and he will hear it, for he is not deaf. What's that? I heard voices," said Dory, looking about him.

Dory was a little alarmed; for it occurred to him that the other robbers, or some of them, had swum ashore. He listened, and heard the voices again; but it came the wrong way to be from the crew of the schooner. A moment's reflection assured him that it must be some party from the school. Then he shouted, and received an answer to his hail. It sounded like the voice of Mr. Jepson.

Dory resumed his march with the prisoner. He began to feel as though he was getting out of the woods. In a few minutes more he saw the engineer and the carpenter hurrying towards him. Angy could not help seeing them also; and he breathed a sigh, which was perhaps the knell of his hopes, if he had had any hopes.

"What have you got there, Dory?" called Mr. Brookbine, as soon as he discovered the prisoner and his custodian.

"One of them," replied Dory.

"Where is the other one?" asked Mr. Jepson.

"The other four are off on the lake, on board of that schooner which came into the river yesterday. I am glad to see you, for I am very tired," said Dory.

As he spoke, he seated himself on a log. In as few words as possible he related what had occurred, and described his conflict with his prisoner. Angy could not help putting in a few words to explain how he happened to be beaten.

"We have examined the shore so far, and were following the road when we heard shouting in this direction," said Mr. Jepson.

"It was the voice of the prisoner, hailing his companions on board of the schooner. I shouted as soon as I heard you," replied Dory.

"It is all right, then; and we have nothing to do but take this fellow back to the school," added Mr. Brookbine.

"Can't you do that alone, Mr. Brookbine?" asked Dory. "I brought him so far alone."

"Certainly I can," replied the carpenter. "I think we shall find a team as soon as we reach the road. There must be other parties out before this time, for Captain Gildrock sent to all the officers in town. I will send some of them over here."

"Don't do it, if you please, Mr. Brookbine. If Mr. Jepson will stay with me, we will see where that schooner goes," added Dory.

"The storm is over, and the principal will be up here before long in one of the steamers," said the machinist.

"You may take this pocket-book to my uncle, if you please, Mr. Brookbine. It contains all the money taken from the safe," continued Dory, as he handed it to the carpenter.

"The principal told me he had lost four five-hundred-dollar bills and some other money," added Mr. Brookbine.

"It is all in that pocket-book."

The master-carpenter took the prisoner by the arm, and marched him off in the direction he had come, leaving Dory still seated on the log. After the kickings, after the constrained positions he had been compelled to keep, to say nothing of the battle he had fought, and the excitement to which he had been subjected, Dory was almost worn out. But in half an hour he was well rested, and able to take any step that the occasion might require.

"But why do you remain here, Dory?" asked Mr. Jepson, after he had given him more minute details of the experience of the morning than he had been able to give before.

"I have been remaining here, so far, for the purpose of getting a little rested, and to wait for the next move on the part of the robbers on board of the schooner," replied Dory, as he rose from his seat. "We will go down to the lake now, if you please."

"Are these burglars very desperate fellows?" asked the engineer.

"The fellow Mr. Brookbine has in charge is the worst one; but they are a hard lot, any way."

The instructor in mechanics took from his pocket the revolver with which he had armed himself, rather to show that he was ready for an emergency, than for any other purpose; and Dory was not sorry to see that he was prepared for the worst that was likely to happen. He had some very distinct views of his own, though he was not at all inclined to undertake any hazardous enterprise.

Dory led the way to the inlet where he had left the boat. From this place they could see the masts of the La Motte. She had anchored off Camp-Meeting Point, which was in the shape of a pear, with the small end next to the main land. The La Motte lay on the edge of the shoal which extended all the way along the shore to Bluff Point. She might have gone nearer to the shore, but her crew seemed to be afraid to risk it.

Dory asked the instructor to get into the boat, and he pulled down nearly to the entrance of the inlet. Then they hauled the boat into the bushes, and landed. Carefully keeping themselves out of sight, they obtained a fair view of the vessel. Something seemed to be going on upon her deck. The crew were lowering something into the water.

"What are they doing?" asked Mr. Jepson.

Before he had time to answer the question, one of the burglars shouted three times, calling "Angy." Dory ran to the head of the inlet, through the trees, for all the shore was wooded. He expected the call to be repeated, but he heard nothing for some time. Then he ran in the direction of the point. Disguising his voice as much as he could, he called to Mack. The answer came at once, and Dory hastened back to the entrance of the creek. The burglars had a good right to suppose their missing leader was on shore at the place where Dory had hailed them.

"They were putting the hatches into the water," said he, when he joined his companion.

"They have just dropped another into the water, and they are holding them with lines," added Mr. Jepson. "What are they going to do with them?"

"They are going to use them as rafts, and they are going ashore to look for their missing chief. They won't find him," replied Dory, laughing.

"But they will find us," suggested the instructor.

"I don't believe they will; for as soon as they are fairly on the shore, we will make our next move. There they go! Two of them are going to leave the schooner; and, according to my reckoning, there will be but two left on board of her."

They watched the movements of the two men as they embarked on their floats. The heavy sea had subsided to a great degree, but it was still rough. One of the rafts soon tipped its man off, and he continued his voyage by simply clinging to it. The other was soon compelled to resort to the same expedient.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE ARRIVAL OF MICHAEL ANGELO SPICKLES.

The bell on the dormitory was rung at the regular hour, and every thing went on as usual at the school. Captain Gildrock had started out all the officers in Genverres to hunt down the burglars. The engineer and the carpenter had the start of them, but at breakfast-time nothing had been heard from them. It was Saturday, and the regular sessions of the school were suspended on that day; but the order had been given for all the students to assemble in the schoolroom at eight o'clock.

The excitement had almost entirely subsided, and the only thing that disturbed the principal was the continued absence of Dory. But Mr. Jepson and Mr. Brookbine had gone in search of him, and it did not appear that any thing else could be done. Mrs. Dornwood and Marian were very anxious about him; and as soon as it appeared that the storm had subsided, the captain promised to send out all the steamers and sailing-craft to explore the lake and the eastern shore.

At the appointed hour all the students were in their places, some of them expecting to hear the principal speak of the burglary, though the old scholars were not of this number. If there was any exciting topic not connected with the school current on the premises, Captain Gildrock usually ignored it. He made the work of the school the main topic, and never put the routine aside unless for sufficient reasons.

"As the season opens, we are to make the sailing of boats the principal object of study and practice," the principal began, much to the disappointment of many of the students, who wanted to know what he thought about the burglary. "This matter has always been attended to more or less, though we have never given it special attention till this season.

"While we shall be obliged to confine our practice in sailing to small craft, I shall give you some idea of the management of larger craft. In one of the palaces in St. Petersburg, there is a mast set up, and fully sparred and rigged, for the instruction of the young Grand Dukes in seamanship. From this model they learn all the details of the spars, rigging, and sails; and having learned it on one mast, they apply it to any other.

"I have already given this information so far as it could be done in a lecture illustrated with drawings. You have studied these drawings, and you ought to know the names and uses of the principal pieces of rigging. I gave you the system by which the names are applied; and at the time of it, you seemed to have mastered the subject, though you have doubtless forgotten some of the details.

"But this is not a study-hour, and perhaps it would be better for me to answer questions, of which you seem to have a full supply on hand at all times. At any rate, I shall ascertain what you wish to know on this subject."

Lon Dorset raised his hand, and the principal indicated by a nod that he might proceed. All eyes were directed towards him.

"I wish to know if there is ever a square-sail rigged with a gaff on the mizzen-mast of a brig, above the spanker,--a sail set like the mainsail of a schooner?" asked the inquirer.

"On which mast?" asked the principal; and there was something like a suppressed laugh among the old sailors of the school.

"The mizzen-mast, sir," replied Lon confidently.

The old sailors laughed out loud, for it was rather a pleasure to trip up any one in a nautical blunder.

"There is no such mast in a brig," added Captain Gildrock.

"I beg your pardon, sir; but you told us, in the lecture you gave us on the different rigs of vessels, that a brig had two masts,--the main and the mizzen," continued Lon, picking up his note-book, and hastily turning the leaves.

"I think not, Dorset," said the principal with a smile. "I know better than that, and I should not be likely to say such a thing."

"Here it is, just as I wrote it down at the time of it," persisted Lon. "I didn't know any thing at all about such vessels, and I should not have been likely to put down what you didn't say. 'In a vessel with two masts, the terms are main and mizzen.'"

About a dozen others began to turn the leaves of their note-books, and then Dolly Woodford raised his hand. The principal nodded to him.

"I have it down in the same way," said Dolly.

"So have I," added Sam Spottwood.

"Main and mizzen," followed Chick Penny, reading from his book.

Half a dozen of the students said the same thing, after consulting their notes taken on the spot.

"I have it so, sir; and I thought it was a mistake. I was going to ask you about it, but I did not get a chance to do so," said Dick Short.

"I shall have to give it up," replied the principal; "and I cheerfully acknowledge that you are right, and I am wrong. I must have said so, since you prove that I did. A person sometimes says a thing exactly opposite from what he means. I must ask you to correct the record, and write it down, that, in a vessel with two masts, the terms are fore and main. You mean a square-sail above the spanker on the mainmast of a brig; though you are not responsible for making it the mizzen, Dorset."

"Yes, sir. I saw a picture in an old book with such a sail on the mainmast," replied the student.

"I have seen such a sail once or twice in my life at sea; but it is not common, especially at the present day. The ordinary gaff-topsail, if any sail is to be set above the spanker on a brig, could present quite as much surface, and be more easily handled."

Another student raised his hand, and the principal was going to give him permission to speak, when the door of the schoolroom was opened, and Mr. Brookbine, rifle in hand, and leading Mr. Michael Angelo Spickles by the arm, marched into the room. He made his way directly to the platform where the captain stood. Of course, this arrival made a decided sensation among the students, though they did not indulge in any demonstration.

"I beg your pardon, Captain Gildrock, for bringing this gentleman here, but I could not find any one below to take charge of him while I sent for you," said the master-carpenter; for he knew that the principal did not like any thing sensational in the presence of the students.

"You are excusable under the circumstances, Mr. Brookbine," replied the captain. "Very likely the students will be glad to see the gentleman, if that is what you call him."

"I suppose that is what he calls himself."

"But where is Dory, Mr. Brookbine?" asked the principal, with more anxiety in his tones than he was in the habit of displaying when any thing troubled him.

"He is all right, sir. He has gone with Mr. Jepson to follow this matter up a little further," replied the carpenter.

Captain Gildrock smiled, for his anxiety was relieved. He turned from the instructor to the prisoner he had brought, and whose face he had not noticed before. Possibly it was to some extent an affectation for him to appear to be unmoved, whatever happened; and he had hardly noticed the carpenter and his prisoner when they entered the room.

"Good-morning, Mr. Spickles. I see that you have done me the honor to call again, and I shall endeavor to appreciate your courtesy," said the captain, when he recognized his visitor of the day before.

"I did not come of my own accord this time, and no compliments are in order," growled Spickles.

"This visit is quite unexpected. I remember that you seemed to feel a lively interest in my safe in the office; and you have proved to your satisfaction that it is not a wooden one," continued Captain Gildrock. "I must confess that I am greatly surprised to find a young gentleman with your brilliant ideas engaged in blowing open safes."

"Here is a pocket-book which was taken from him," interposed the carpenter, as he handed it to the principal. "I did not tell you that this was the chief of the burglars, but such is the fact."

The captain opened the pocket-book, and took the wet bills from it.

"These were the bills in the safe, without any doubt; and I am fortunate to recover them. Every dollar stolen is here. You have made a bad investment, Mr. Spickles."

"The storm was against my side of the question. If it had not been for that, you would never have seen your money again," muttered Spickles, who appeared to think that an apology for his failure was due.

"Then, I ought to be grateful for the storm," added the principal. "I suppose the young gentleman who called with you yesterday assisted you in this delicate operation."

"I don't answer questions," growled the burglar.

"Perhaps Mr. Brookbine will be more communicative," said the captain, turning to the instructor in carpentry.

"I don't know much about the others, only from what Dory said to me. He told me about his dealings with these fellows; and as usual, he has acted like a hero," replied the instructor.

At this remark, there was a burst of applause, and all the students manifested the most intense interest in the proceedings. The principal looked at them, and perhaps he thought it would be cruel not to gratify their excited curiosity to know the particulars of the capture of the burglar.

"Mr. Spickles will be more comfortable if you remove the cords that bind him; and I will invite him to take a seat on the platform by my side," continued Captain Gildrock, as he placed a chair for the culprit. "I trust he will not make it necessary for me to put my hands upon him."

Mr. Brookbine released the prisoner, and put him in the chair assigned to him. If he thought of escaping, the stalwart forms of the principal and the master-carpenter were sufficiently formidable to intimidate him. Mr. Brookbine was then invited to explain what had happened during his absence, and to do it so that all the students could hear him. The boys were delighted at this unexpected privilege, and they listened with the deepest interest to the narrative of Dory's doings since he left the school early in the morning. When the result of his battle in the boat with the chief was reached, the students applauded lustily, and the principal did not check them. With only a little less dignity he would have done the same himself.

"Then, Dory has gone to look after the schooner, has he?" asked Captain Gildrock, when the narrative was finished.

"Yes, sir: he and Mr. Jepson left me, to attend to this matter."

"I hope they don't intend to capture the schooner," added the principal, with a smile. "Dory is a prudent young man, and I don't expect him to undertake any Munchausen adventures."

"He said he was going to watch the schooner: he did not say he intended to capture the vessel," replied the carpenter.

"How many persons were there on board of the schooner, Randolph?" asked the principal.

"Five in all, all members of the Nautifelers Club," replied Matt.

"The Nautifelers Club will not exist much longer. Under the present circumstances, we will defer the lecture on sailing to another day. The gale has subsided, and we will attend to the practical part of the lesson. Randolph, you will take your class in the Lily; Glovering, you may take Dory's class in his absence; the rest of you will man the two steamers."

This announcement was received with applause, and Mr. Brookbine was instructed to take his prisoner to the lock-up.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE RESULT OF DORY'S STRATEGY.

Dory Dornwood and Mr. Jepson watched the movements of the two men on the rafts as they approached the shore, driven before the strong wind, though it had ceased to be a furious gale by this time. The La Motte had swung round with her head to the wind, and the two members of the Nautifelers Club who remained on board of her had seated themselves on the taffrail to watch their progress.

"They must understand by this time that something has happened to Spickles," said the instructor, as they looked out from their hiding-place in the trees.

"Who is Spickles?" asked Dory, who had not heard the name of the leader before.

"He is the fellow you call Angy, and his full name is Michael Angelo Spickles. The two given names appear to have been used to take off the curse of the homely last name; but Buonarotti is not honored in his namesake," added the instructor, laughing. "I saw him yesterday when he called at the school, and Matt Randolph told me something about him."

"I saw the schooner in the river yesterday, but I did not go very near her. These fellows are a bad lot, and a few years in the State prison will do them good. I begin to feel as though it were breakfast-time," said Dory. "I have had a long tramp this morning."

"I have the same feeling. But what are you going to do, Dory?" asked the instructor, to whom Dory had not yet explained his intentions, if he had any.

"I don't know yet: that will depend upon what those fellows do. I should like to get possession of that schooner and the four fellows that belong to the gang; and I shall be willing to go without my breakfast for the sake of doing it," replied Dory. "I should like to sail the La Motte into Beechwater with these four fellows under the hatches."

"Do you think of doing any thing of that sort?" asked the instructor, with no little astonishment on his face.

"Not without your consent and assistance, Mr. Jepson."

"That would be a rather bold enterprise, Dory."

"We are only two, and I don't think of fighting them, or any thing of that sort; though I am ready to lay hands on them if the chances are in our favor. I don't think they are fighting characters, like the one already captured."

"But they are not going to give themselves up without some sort of persuasion."

"We will persuade them, then, if they insist upon it. There are only two of them left on board of the vessel. By the use of a little strategy, we can get on board of the schooner. Then we can watch our chances, and do what the occasion may require."

"Very well, Dory: I will assist you. But your uncle will not care to have you attack these fellows."

"I don't know that we shall attack them: that will depend upon circumstances. I handled the chief of the gang, and I am sure I can manage any one of the others. They are not more than eighteen or twenty years old, and I am as heavy as any of them."

"Then, I ought to be able to manage the second one," added the instructor.

"The two who are going ashore cannot possibly get back to the vessel without a boat; and, no doubt, they count upon finding the one they used this morning."

"You must be very careful what you do, Dory."

"I certainly shall be; but I can't think of letting these villains escape, as they may, if we do nothing."

"One of them has reached the shore," said Mr. Jepson.

"And the other will be there in a moment," added Dory, as he rose from his sitting posture to enable him to see better. "They will make it their first business to find Angy Spickles. They won't find him, and they will do a good deal of looking for him before they give him up. We will not show ourselves for a while,--not till the two on shore have had time to go some distance from the lake."

The second raftsman landed on the beach all in a heap, and the first one assisted him out of the water. They dragged their floats out of the water, possibly thinking they might want them again; though they must be reasonably sure of finding the schooner's boat.

As soon as they had disposed of their rafts, they started for the point from which the last call of their leader, as they supposed, had come. They began to shout as they went into the woods, and in a short time their voices came to the listeners from a considerable distance.

"Now is our time," said Dory, as he seated himself in the boat, and got the oars ready for use.

"Shall I take an oar?"

"That will be the better way. When those on board see the boat coming, they will think it is their two companions, and they will wonder what has become of Angy," continued Dory.

"But if the fellows on shore see us, they will spoil your little arrangement," suggested the instructor.

"But they won't see us. How can they see us when they are a quarter of a mile off in the woods?" argued Dory.

Both of the rowers gave way, and the boat advanced towards the La Motte. As soon as the two on board of her saw the tender, they left their places on the taffrail, and went into the waist, where they could obtain a better view of the boat. It would be an easy thing for them to recognize the tender, for, like the schooner itself, it was painted green.

"I am afraid they will recognize us," said Dory, "or fail to recognize their companions, which amounts to the same thing. I am going to take my coat off, and tie a handkerchief on my head; and you had better do the same. It will be some disguise."

This change was made in the appearance of the rowers, and they resumed their oars. The sea was still heavy enough to require both skill and strength in handling the boat; but Dory was an expert, and they made good progress towards the La Motte. The fact that there were only two in the boat was likely to excite the suspicion of those on board of the schooner.

"Where is Angy?" shouted one of them, as soon as the boat came within hail of the vessel.

Dory did not consider it prudent to answer this question; for his voice was likely to betray him, or at least to assure the burglars that the speaker was not one of their number. He had been with them for some time, though he had been silent.

"I think you had better do the talking, Mr. Jepson, for they will know me," said Dory.

"Wouldn't it be better to do no talking?" asked the instructor.

"We must answer them if they keep hailing us, or they will be suspicious."

"Have you seen any thing of Angy?" shouted one of the burglars.

"He is on shore," replied Mr. Jepson.

"Why didn't he come off with you?"

"His business was such that he couldn't leave," answered the machinist; but perhaps they did not hear his reply.

The two burglars seemed to be talking together, and the boat was now almost near enough to hear what they said. Like all the rest of the intercourse in the party, it was not entirely harmonious, and they appeared to be disputing about something. As the boat approached the schooner, Dory told the instructor what to say.

"One of you go aft, and put the helm hard down, and the other cast off the main-sheet, or you will drag your anchor, and get aground!" shouted the instructor, as they came alongside of the schooner.

Dory took it for granted that the hands on board of the La Motte were not sailors; though he had seen enough of their management of the schooner to convince him that they were not skilful seamen, to say the least. Both of the men hastened aft, without appearing to understand that the order given them was an absurd one. With the painter of the boat in his hand, Dory leaped on board of the vessel, and Mr. Jepson followed him.

The mainsail of the schooner was furled, and casting off the main-sheet could not have the least effect upon her; but one of them cast it off, and the other was at the tiller. He did not know what "hard down" meant, as no one would have known when the schooner was at anchor.

"Which way shall I put the tiller?" asked the one who was at the helm.

"That's right as you have it," replied the machinist, prompted by Dory.

While he was making it fast with the tiller-lines, the other one came into the waist. Dory turned his back to him, regardless of the law of politeness. The instructor was a stranger to him; but as he came off in the schooner's boat, he did not seem to suspect that there was any thing wrong.

"Have you seen Captain Spickles?" he asked.

"Yes: we saw him on shore, but he was not ready to come on board," answered the instructor.

By this time Dory had worked himself to a position in the rear of the fellow, who was rather diminutive in form; and he did not lose an instant in resorting to the tactics of Captain Spickles himself. Placing his hands on the shoulders of his intended victim, he raised his right knee to the small of his back, and brought him down with very little effort. He had picked up a piece of line before, with which he tied his arms behind him, even before the one at the tiller had noticed what was going on.

"What are you about there?" demanded the other, as soon as he saw what had been done, and hastened to the waist.

"Throw up your hands!" said the machinist, as he brought his revolver to bear upon him.

The weapon had its effect, and the fellow promptly obeyed the order. Dory secured him as he had the first one, and the business was finished without disaster to any one. The prisoners were astonished, and it was evident that they were inferior in force to the other three.

CHAPTER XV.

UNDER WAY, OR UNDER WEIGH.

Captain Michael Angelo Spickles was delivered to an officer, who committed him to a cell in the lock-up. The future must have looked very dark to him, for he was morally sure of spending the next few years in the State prison. The Nautifelers Club had come to naught. Only the day before, he had been blackguarding his former friend for not drinking beer, and for being correct in his moral ideas. To-day he was in condition to see the folly of his conduct, even from a merely worldly point of view.

At the Beech Hill Industrial School, as soon as the principal dismissed the students, the wharf and the boat-house were scenes of intense activity. Although Captain Gildrock had not the slightest intention of exposing them to a possible shot from the burglars, many of the pupils believed they were going out in search of the companions of the chief who had been exhibited to their wondering gaze in the schoolroom.

The principal was not at all inclined to foster their belligerent propensities, and he mercilessly ridiculed any thing that looked like a fight to "see who was the better man." If it was clearly shown that a boy had fought purely in self-defence, after he had done nothing to provoke his opponent to wrath, if he did not commend him, he excused him.

Mr. Brookbine had reported that Mr. Jepson and Dory were watching the schooner, which was at anchor off Camp-Meeting Point. Four of the five members of the Nautifelers Club must still be on board of her. This was understood by all on the place. The principal hoped that Dory would not do any thing more than watch the La Motte. If he had known just what his nephew was about, he would have interposed to prevent him from meddling with such dangerous characters.

Mrs. Dornwood had been in a fever of excitement all the morning; for her son was absent, and she did not seem to have as much confidence in his discretion as her brother had. The news that he was safe and unharmed had been sent to her, as soon as the master-carpenter arrived with the prisoner; but this comforted, while it did not satisfy, her.

As soon as he left the schoolroom, the principal had driven rapidly to the town, and procured two deputy-sheriffs, and brought them to the wharf, where they went on board of the Sylph, the larger of the two steamers. If any one was to attack the burglars on board of the La Motte, one or both of these officers were the proper persons to do it, in the opinion of Captain Gildrock.

The new steamer was about fifty feet long. She had been built by the students, both hull and machinery, and had been launched as soon as the ice went out of Beechwater. There had been a great deal of discussion over the subject of a name for her, as there had been when the name of Miss Bristol had been given to the "Lily," for the sole reason that she was a remarkably pretty girl.

When the students came to vote on a name for the new steamer they had built, after a long discussion, in which all the names of localities on the lake were mentioned, the vote was almost unanimous for the name of "Marian." She was goodlooking enough, though not decidedly pretty; but she was not only the sister of Dory, and the niece of the principal, but Oscar Chester, the captain of the Sylph, was very partial to her society.

The new steamer was therefore called the "Marian;" but the act of giving this name to her robbed the eight-oar barge of her name, or made two craft at the school with the same name, which would cause confusion. The name of a river on the other side of the lake, which had been suggested for the steam-yacht, "Bouquet," had been given to the barge.

The Marian had a regular ship's company, and Luke Bennington was her captain. All the students were assigned to one or the other of the steamers, though at the same time they belonged to the sailing-craft. They were all to be instructed in the management of both steam and sail vessels.

Dory had taken a fancy the year before to change the Goldwing from a schooner into a sloop; and though he was satisfied that the alteration had not been for the better, she still remained a one-masted boat, because he had not had time to change her to her original condition. The principal had objected to restoring her at present, because he wanted a sloop as well as a schooner for purposes of instruction. The Goldwing carried a large mainsail, and spread even more canvas than when she was a schooner; but she did not sail a particle faster, as Dory had expected she would.

Thad Glovering was to take the place of Dory in the Goldwing during his absence. He was a good boatman, though he rather lacked in dignity when placed in the position of an instructor. The instruction in sailing had not been regularly begun, though each of the young teachers in this art had been out in the boats with his class. The pupils assigned the Lily and the Goldwing were those who had entered the school at the beginning of the current school-year.

The senior class had, nearly all of them, all who had any taste for it, picked up a knowledge of the art. Some of the new ones had a little skill at it; though all of them needed instruction, and especially practice. The class in the Goldwing consisted of six besides the instructor. The boats had been brought up to the wharf, and Luke Bennington was the first to get under way. He gave the order to do so.

"All ready to get under way," said he.

"I beg your pardon, Captain Glovering"--

"Don't you do it!" interposed the skipper of the Goldwing, with a very undignified laugh, while there was something like a blush on his brown face. "I don't want to be captained just because I happen to be here for once to show you fellows how to handle a boat. Call me plain Thad, as you always do, if you please; and I will guess all the conundrums you sling at me, if I can."

"I stand corrected, Thad," added Ash Burton, who had begun to ask the question. "You spoke about getting under way. Will you please to tell me how you spell that word?"

"Spell the word 'get under way'? I don't believe I know that word," laughed the skipper.

"Excuse me, Mr. Skipper: I meant only the last word in the expression, though I did not say so."

"Well, Mr. Ordinary Seaman, or Mr. Green Hand, I always spell it w-a-y; and I confess I don't know any other w-a-y to spell it."

"I do; and I want to know which is the right way, Thad."

"What's the other way, Ash?"

"W-e-i-g-h."

"That's another word."

"The two words are pronounced just alike; and I wish to know which is the right word to use when you mean to start, go ahead, progress, get along, go forward, advance"--

"Hold on! You needn't go through the dictionary, for I know what you mean, Ash."

"It don't make any difference how you spell the word when you simply speak, for the pronunciation is the same; but I have read in books and newspapers about vessels being 'under weigh.'"

"That question came up once in the schoolroom, and the principal settled it for us. There is no dictionary-war on this word; for neither Worcester nor Webster gives any such definition as making progress to weigh, while both of them give this as the nautical meaning of way."

"That settles it; but we weigh anchor," suggested Ash.

"We weigh a pound of cheese; but that has nothing to do with the progress the skippers make inside of it."

"As they weigh the anchor when they are going to start, I suppose that is where the error comes from," added Ash.

"They couldn't very well start without weighing it; but that is no excuse for the misuse of the word. But there are plenty of words in nautical phraseology which are not used according to the dictionary and grammar, as in all the walks of life," continued Thad.

"Tell us some of them," said Archie Pinkler.

"If we are going out on the lake to catch those burglars, I haven't time for much of that sort of thing," replied Thad. "The ship was laying to, though no eggs were found in the water. You lay a book on the table; but when it is there, it lies, and it don't lay. When you get tired, it is not the thing to lay down; better lie down, and it will rest you more. You may lay a ship to; but when you have done it, she is lying to, as much as though she was also telling a fib. But, be ready to get under headway, for that is what we mean; and we won't lie here any longer, for the Lily is just getting off."

"But the Lily lay at the wharf just now," suggested Ben Sinker, rather timidly.

"But she don't now, and never does. Lay is the yesterday of lie; and that is where you mix things, Ben. Man the mainsail-halyards. Archie and Con, take the throat-halyards; Syl and Hop, the throat."

"Ay, ay, sir!" replied Archie.

"Don't be too nautical, my lad; and remember that two-thirds of the slang used for salt-talk is never heard on board of a vessel. Where are you going, if you please, Mr. Ay-ay-sir?" asked the skipper, when he saw Archie go over to the starboard side of the Goldwing.

"I am going to man the throat-halyards, as you told me," replied Archie.

"Do you expect to find them over there? Dory Dornwood rigged this sloop, and he put things in their right places," added Thad.

"I know about the halyards," said Archie.

"But the question just now with you relates to throat-halyards; and you have gone over to the starboard side to look for them."

"That's so: I forgot about it."

"Allow me to inform this crew that the throat-halyards are on the port-side of the mast. Don't try to remember where the peak-halyards are, for that will make two things to recollect. Throat-port. Only this, and nothing more. If you try to hold on to the other at the same time, you will mix them."

"But a fellow wants to know where to find the peak halyards as well as the throat," suggested Con Bunker.

"Exactly; so he does. After he has found the throat, he must box the compass, lay the parallel ruler on the deck, count the anchor three times to make sure of the number, swing six, and cast out nine, and then go to the other side of the mast to look for the peak-halyards; but I will bet half a pint of Champlain water against a hogshead of New-Orleans molasses that he won't find them."

But the two hands designated had found the peak-halyards on the starboard side of the mast. The sail was set, the bow shoved off, and the boat began to gather headway. The jib was set; and, as the wind was still very fresh, the Goldwing heeled over, and darted ahead at a flying rate. Thad took the helm himself; for Dory had put in a horizontal wheel, and not one of the class was competent to steer her.

"Now, how many of you fellows know all the ropes in a sloop?" asked the young instructor, as the boat headed towards the outlet of the little lake. "There are not a great many things to learn about such a craft as this, but a fellow has got to know them all over."

"I know them all," added Archie.

"Just as you knew where to look for the throat-halyards," laughed the skipper.

Thad took a picture of a sloop from his pocket.

CHAPTER XVI.

ON BOARD OF THE LA MOTTE.

Perhaps the principal reason why Dory Dornwood and the instructor in mechanics had obtained so easy a victory over the two members of the Nautifelers Club who remained on board of the La Motte, was that both of them were soaked with beer. They were not intoxicated in the worst sense of the word: they were "boozy" and stupid.

They had been left on board while the other three had gone on shore to "do the job" at the school, and, no doubt, the time in the furious storm hung heavy on their hands. They had imbibed from the keg until they were deprived of whatever natural energy belonged to them, and they did not seem to have either the pluck or the ability to do any thing for themselves. A stronger intoxicant might have made them wild and desperate: the beer simply stupefied them.

"We have got the vessel," said the machinist, with a cheerful smile, as he held on to the robber whom he had just secured.

"No doubt of that," added Dory, as he rose from the deck where he had been attending to his prisoner. "These fellows don't seem to be very desperate characters."

"I expected a far worse time than we have had," added Mr. Jepson. "What is the next move? Shall we take them to the school in the vessel?"

"Not yet a while," replied Dory, glancing towards the shore where the two had landed on the rafts. "We have another job on our hands; but I think we had better put these fellows where they will not be in our way."

As he spoke, he assisted the one who was lying on the deck to rise. Leaving both of them in charge of his companion, he went down into the cabin. It was a very small apartment, not intended for more than four persons. On the table in the centre of it was the keg of beer, carefully secured with blocks, and lashed down.

An open door by the side of the companion-way led into the hold. One end of it had been roughly prepared with berths, which were provided with bedding. There were six of these bunks, making sleeping accommodations for ten persons. An old carpet had been laid on the bottom of the hold, and Dory was willing to admit that the place was comfortable enough for a summer-cruise on the lake.

As the club consisted of only five persons, Dory could not imagine why the vessel had been fitted up, at some extra expense, for double that number. But he did not wait to indulge in any conjectures on the subject. The stanchions which had been put up to support the bunks, afforded what he was looking for; and the two prisoners could be fastened to them.

The robbers were conducted to this place. They were both under the influence of the beer, and had some difficulty in maintaining the centre of gravity over the base. They were sleepy and stupid, and Dory compelled his man to sit down with his back to the stanchion. In this position he made him fast, and the machinist did the same with the other.

Both of them said they were comfortable when the question was put to them. But they were so tipsy that they had no very definite ideas on any subject. They submitted with the best grace in the world, and even seemed to be pleased to find that all their responsibilities had come to a sudden end; for they were not in condition to attend to any thing.

"What has become of Angy?" asked one of them.

"He could not come on board again," replied Dory. "Who were the two fellows that went ashore on the hatches of the schooner?"

"Chuckworth and Mackwith," replied the one addressed.

"What is your name?"

"My name is Sangfraw."

"What is your name?" asked Mr. Jepson of the other.

"My name is Wickwood," he answered, with a dazed look around him.

"Did you two go on shore with Angy?" inquired Dory of Sangfraw; and he was not confident that this was a real name.

"No, we did not: we staid on board, and we have not been on shore at all. Chuck and Mack went with Angy," replied Sangfraw; and he looked up into Dory's face, as though he was seeking for some information in regard to him.

"What was this place, this steerage, fitted up for?" asked Dory.

"For the club."

"What did you want of ten berths?"

"Because there are ten of the members."

"Where are the other five?"

"They were to join us up here somewhere."

"That's it, is it?" added Dory, glancing at the instructor.

"That's it, exactly; and I'm a member of the club, and the cook of the ship," said Sangfraw, dropping his head as though the effort required to keep it up was too great for him.

"Where does the La Motte go when she sails?" asked Dory.

"She is going to Ticonderoga after the rest of the club," answered Sangfraw, rousing himself. "Now, s'pose you tell me where Angy is."

"He is safe enough," said Dory, leading the way out of the steerage, as he called it, into the cabin. "I fancy that these fellows don't live without eating, and I think a few mouthfuls would make me feel better."

They examined the pantry, and they found an abundance of ham, cold chicken, and other food, from which both of the captors of the schooner made a very satisfactory breakfast. Dory found his condition very much improved, and his energy revived, by the meal.

"This is decidedly a happy family," said Dory, as they went on deck, after ascertaining that both of the prisoners had dropped asleep.

"And it seems that there was to be an addition of five persons to the family. Very likely those on board were to fill up the exchequer of the club by their operations before the others joined them," added the machinist. "I wonder if this is the first robbery they have committed. I have not had time to read the papers much this week."

"By the great iron jingo!" exclaimed Dory, as the suggestion of his companion stimulated his memory. "I read that two robberies had been committed in the vicinity of Plattsburg; and the last sentence of the paragraph was, that no clew to the burglars had been obtained. These are the fellows!"

"Then, we had better search the vessel," suggested Mr. Jepson.

"Let the officers do that after we have taken her to Beechwater. We shall have enough to do to take care of these fellows; for I hope we shall be able to take the other two, Chuck and Mack, with us as passengers."

"Then, you intend to follow up this matter, Dory?"

"If we don't bag them before they ascertain that Angy has come to grief, they will leave for parts unknown. The two on shore were actually engaged in the robbery," continued Dory. "There were two of them in the office, and the third had charge of the boat. At any rate, they were all mixed up in the affair."

"The two on shore must have seen the boat when we came off," suggested the machinist.

"I think not. They went away from the shore, deceived by the hail I gave them from a point above the inlet. In my opinion, they are still looking for Angy in the woods, and have not seen any thing on the lake."

"They won't find Angy on shore."

"And when they are tired of looking for him, they will come on board again, if they can get on board. If they see the boat alongside of the schooner when they come to the shore, they will at once conclude that he has gone on board. Whether I am right, or not, I shall act on that theory, if you approve of it," said Dory.

"I should say that your reasoning was correct as far as it goes. But when they see the green boat made fast to the schooner, they will want to know why Sang and Wick have not gone ashore after them."

"Precisely so, and we will provide for that doubt on their part. Now we will set that reefed foresail, and run down a little nearer to the point. The water will float this vessel a hundred feet from the shore," continued Dory with energy.

The foresail was hoisted, and the anchor weighed. Dory steered to a certain part of the point, near the outer extremity of it. Both of them kept a sharp lookout for the two robbers on the shore, but nothing was seen or heard of them. The La Motte was run as near the shore as it was prudent to take her; and when she was thrown up into the wind, the machinist let go the anchor, while Dory hastened to lower the sail.

The wind was fresh, and the sea was heavy; but the schooner did not bump on the bottom, though she was inside of a hundred feet from the shore. Dory found the lead and line, and directed the machinist to sound over the stern when the vessel had brought up to her cable. As he did so, Dory let off the cable, allowing the schooner to approach still nearer to the shore. When he secured the cable, the stern was hardly more than fifty feet from the land.

There was a rather heavy surf rolling up on the abrupt beach, but it was nothing compared with that in which the party had been involved at an earlier hour in the morning. The machinist went below to look at the prisoners, and found them fast asleep still. Probably they had been up all night, besides being charged with beer; and they were not likely to give their captors any trouble.

Dory had carried the painter of the tender to the stern of the schooner; and, as it was a long rope, the boat was held half way between the vessel and the shore. There was nothing more for the captors to do at present; and they seated themselves under the bulwarks, where they could not be seen from the shore, though they kept a sharp lookout in the direction of the place where Mack and Chuck had landed.

They had been in this position for half an hour, when they discovered the two robbers on the beach. They shouted several times to the La Motte, but no notice was taken of them. Dory cast off the painter of the tender, and let it drop into the water.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE STANDING-RIGGING OF A SLOOP.

The picture of a sloop Thad Glovering produced on board of the Goldwing was a drawing which the skipper had hastily made just before he went on board of the boat. He passed it to Ash Burton, who knew more about a boat than any other student of the party. But all of them wanted to look at it, and they had nearly fallen overboard in their eagerness to get a sight of it.

"Hold up, fellows!" called Thad, taking the picture from Ash. "Do you want to make a bear-garden of the standing-room of the Goldwing? Not much! You will all get a chance to see it without upsetting the boat."

"There comes the Marian!" exclaimed Hop Cabright, as the new steam-yacht came shooting across Beechwater as though it had been discharged from a rifle. "I believe she is faster than the Sylph."

"Come to, Thad!" shouted Luke Bennington, the captain of the swift little steamer, from the pilot-house.

"What's up now?" said the skipper of the Goldwing, as he put his helm down.

The boat came up into the wind, with her sail banging furiously in the lively breeze; and the Marian went alongside of her. Luke handed Thad a little bundle of papers, which the principal had forgotten to give to the temporary instructor in sailing. The steamer started her screw again, and dashed into the creek leading to the river. Thad filled away again, and followed her. As soon as he had the boat under way, he opened the package.

"Here is just what we want; and it will prevent you fellows from spilling yourselves into the drink in looking at my drawing," said Thad, as he produced the contents of the parcel. "I have heard something about these before."

"What are they, Thad?" asked Archie.

"A copy for each one of you of a sloop, with letters to indicate the parts," replied Thad, as he distributed them among his crew. "It is a picture of a sloop from Captain Douglas Frazar's book, called 'Practical Boat-Sailing.' The principal says it is a most excellent little book, containing a vast amount of simple and useful information for those handling sail-boats. Captain Gildrock is well acquainted with the author, and knows him to be a thorough seaman as well as a skilful yachtsman. Now, look at the picture, and imagine that it is the Goldwing."

"But the Goldwing has but one jib," replied Ben Sinker.

"And you have but one hat," returned Thad.

"I have another in my room."

"This sloop has another jib in her room, which is the sail-room in the boat-house. She don't wear it just now, as you don't have on your other hat. Now, Archie, what is the upright stick in the forward part of the sloop? Be practical about it, and don't talk any moonshine, if you please."

"It is the mast," replied Archie confidently.

"That isn't the name of it."

"Not the mast?" asked Archie, perplexed.

"It is the mainmast."

"The mainmast! Then, where is the foremast?" demanded Archie, with a good deal of faith in his argumentative question.

"She don't happen to have any."

"Then, what's the sense of calling it the mainmast when she has no other mast?"

"Excuse me, Archie, but you remind me of the Dutchman," laughed Thad. "'Do you know der reason wot we call our boy Hans for?' They could not guess the reason, and the father explained. 'Der reason wot we call our boy Hans for, is dot's his name.' With your permission, Archie, we will call this stick the mainmast, for the same reason. If it is not the right name, it is neither Captain Frazar's fault, nor mine."

"I accept the amendment; and c c is the mainmast," added Archie.

"Now we are happy! This mast is placed at about one-third of the length of the boat from the bow; though, of course, this distance sometimes varies a little," continued Thad. "What is the spar above it, Syl?"

"The topmast."

"The main-topmast, if you please, as Hans' father would call it. But, when there is only one mast, we often cut it short, and call it simply the mast, or the topmast. Understood! The mast, including the topmast, may be one stick, as is the case in the Goldwing, or it may be two. The topmast is marked d d."

STANDING RIGGING.

REEFED SAILS.

"Then, it is a clergyman," added Hop, trying to be funny.

"The nautical meaning of D. D. in the navy is 'Dead. Discharged.'"

"What is the spar at the head?"

"The bowsprit, marked h."

"Right you are, Ash. What is i, which the Goldwing does not wear just now?"

"The flying jib-boom," shouted Archie, who had been very unfortunate in his answers so far.

"Out on a fly! Jib-boom is enough for this spar. Only two more: what is b b b, the lower one?"

"The boom," replied Archie desperately.

"The main-boom!" shouted Hop.

"Correct, Hop. The upper one, e e?"

"The main gaff!" roared Archie.

"Go to the head. Good boy!"

"To the head of the boat?"

"The head of the mainsail, when you know what it is. Now we will attend to the rigging."

"There is not much of it to attend to," said Archie.

"A short horse is soon curried, but the short horse needs currying quite as much as the long one," replied Thad. "Now, suppose the mainmast were simply run through the forward deck, and the foot of it inserted in the socket in the keelson: would it be strong enough to bear the pressure of the sail in a stiff breeze?"

"It would not: the first flaw would take the mast out of her," replied Ash Burton.

"It would take the mainmast out of her," added Archie sharply.

"I respectfully asked you to be reasonable, in the beginning, Mr. Pinkler," interposed the skipper.

"He called the mainmast simply the mast," pleaded the critic.

"Will you be kind enough to point to the mast?" When he did so, "What are you pointing with?" asked Thad.

"With my finger."

"With your forefinger, you mean. But it is not always necessary to specify exactly what particular thing is meant. I told you that mast was enough in a sloop, though when we come down to the proper names of parts, we should apply the right name. The flaw would take the mast out of her, and it would be likely to do so. What rigging keeps the mast in its place when the flaw comes, Hop?"

"The shrouds. One of them is on each side of b, nearest to the mast," answered the student indicated.

"Then, there are two of them?"

"Two in the drawing; but the Goldwing has only one on each side of the boat," added Hop. "A ship may have nine or ten of them; and I suppose they put on as many of them as are needed."

"Sensible you are, Hop. They are shrouds, and the number of them differs with the size of the vessel. But they are not often called shrouds in small boats as in larger craft. Boatmen call them stays, though the word is rather confusing sometimes. You observe that the shrouds, or stays, in the drawing are both set up abaft the mast."

"I saw a fellow in Genverres yesterday who was set up," said Con Bunker. "He did it with whiskey."

"He was tight; and that is just what rigging is when it is set up, though we don't do it with liquor. Suppose we should rig a purchase on the shrouds of the sloop in the cut, and continue to tighten them as long as we could, what would be the effect on the mast?"

"It would bend the mast towards the stern," replied Ash promptly.

"Then the shrouds would support it from that direction," added Thad. "If no other rigging were used, it would be likely to bend it towards the stern. Look at g g on the diagram; and what do you call it?"

"The jibstay, on which the jib is set," answered Ben Sinker.

"Never mind the jib now. The name is right. Suppose we rig a purchase, and tighten the jibstay: what will be the effect?"

"If we haul it taut enough, it will straighten up the mast," replied Ash. "Therefore it will support the mast from the bow of the boat."

"And all of you will see that it would be impossible to take the mast out of her in a blow unless something broke," added the skipper.

"But tightening the jibstay would hoist the bowsprit," suggested Syl Peckman.

"That is just where I was leading you, my hearty. Now, look at f, if you please; and what do you call it?"

"The bobstay," replied Ash, who had sailed a boat a little at Westport before he entered the school.

"Correct. Haul the bobstay as taut as you can, and it will keep the bowsprit from hoisting. The stem of the craft is the upright timber, placed farthest forward, and forming a continuation of the keel. The iron eye to which the lower end of the bobstay is made fast, is bolted into the stem in the strongest manner. Now you can see how both the mast and the bowsprit are held in their place, and how each is made to support the other. The topmast is, or may be, supported in precisely the same way. One or more ropes leading down to the side of the boat from the topmast would be called the backstays, as in a ship. There are none in the picture. When they are needed, with a balloon-jib, they are sometimes carried to the quarter; but these are temporary. In a small boat, backstays are not needed, for the topmast is stiff enough without them. Look at k; and what is it?"

"The main-topmast-stay," said Ash.

"That is it in full, though I should not have objected if you had called it simply the topmast-stay in a sloop. Archie would. If there are no backstays, it will not do to haul this stay too taut, or it will bend the topmast forward, which is not pleasant to the eye. The jib-boom is held by the rope under it, which is called a stay. In large vessels, the bowsprit and jib-boom are also held in place by ropes at the sides, called guys. As a whole, what do you call the rigging we have talked about?"

"Give it up," replied Hop, after a silence of a minute.

"The standing-rigging; and the principal told you so when he described the ship. Now that we have the spars where they will stay, we will pass on to the sails and running-rigging. Begin at the main boom. What is the rope marked a a?"

"The topping-lift," said Ash.

"When the sail is not set, this rope holds up the boom. The lower end of it, you can see for yourselves,--as you have the real thing before you as well as the picture,--is provided with a purchase, so that the after-end of the boom can be raised or lowered."

"What is this thing?" asked Archie, pointing to a pair of wooden joists, with a bolt through them, like the cross-legs of a table or cot-bedstead.

"That is the crutch. Top up the boom with the purchase, and then place the crutch under it after you anchor."

By this time the Goldwing had reached Lake Champlain.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE RUNNING-RIGGING OF A SLOOP.

The lake still had a decidedly stormy look, and the white-caps were as plentiful as snowflakes at Christmas. The wind had hauled from the south to south-west; and off the mouth of Beaver River, it had a sweep of six miles. Only the mainsail of the Goldwing had been set, but Thad was a prudent skipper; and before the sloop reached the point, on which the spray was dashing at a furious rate, he put the helm down, and ordered Archie to throw over the anchor.

"What's that for?" demanded Hop impatiently.

"It is blowing very hard, and I am going to reef," replied Thad.

"What's the use of reefing? She? will carry the mainsail well enough."

"Perhaps she will, but she won't while I am skipper," replied Thad decidedly. "Besides, we are in no hurry, for we have the whole forenoon before us; and I want to finish the explanations I have to make before you get scared by the slop of the waves, so that you can't take an interest in the subject."

"But we want to see the fun when the robbers are hauled in," added Hop. "Dory is after them, and we want to see him do it."

"Dory won't do any thing that can be seen. If he takes the schooner, he will bring her down to the school. The principal told me not to go near her. The Sylph has not gone out of the river yet; and the fun, if there is to be any, will not come off till she is ready to take a hand in it," said the skipper, as the boat came up to her cable. "If you are to learn to sail a boat, you must know all about one."

Thad did not give Dory credit for all the enterprise he was manifesting in the capture of the robbers, though he certainly would not have helped matters if he had approached the La Motte. Some of the boys grumbled about the delay, but Thad did not abandon his plan.

"What is the principal sail in a sloop?" he asked.

"The mainsail," replied Archie, who was very sure this time.

"This sail, as you may see in the picture or the real thing before you, is irregular in its shape," continued the skipper.

"I wish the real thing wouldn't bang about so," added Ash.

"Give a pull on the main-sheet," added Thad; and it was done. "The real thing won't trouble you now any more than the pictured one. It is supported at the top by the gaff, by the mast at the inner side, and stretched out at the bottom by the boom. On the mast are hoops, which slide up and down when the sail is hoisted or lowered."

"I thought they were called hanks," said Ash.

"Hoops is the correct word; but the rings, whether of wood or any other material, by which a sail, a jib, or a staysail, slides on the stay, are called hanks. There are six parts of this sail which you ought to learn by heart, and know as quick as you know the sleeve of your coat from the collar of it. If you are told by the skipper to take hold of the leech, you ought to know what it is."

"I should say a fellow couldn't do any thing with it till he knew where to find it," added Ash Burton, laughing.

"In the first place, there are the head and the foot," continued Thad. "You know what they are, but you must know that they are called by these names. To what is the head of the sail attached?"

"To the gaff: I mean the main-gaff," replied Archie.

"Right both times. To what is the foot of the sail fastened?"

"To the boom," answered Con Bunker.

"And the wood or iron by which it is fastened, or seized, is called the jackstay. The up-and-down edges of the sail are called leeches."

"Do they bite? How do you spell that word?" asked Hop.

"They don't bite unless you miscall them. As to the spelling, you pay your money, and take your choice, for it is spelled both ways. They are the inner and the outer leeches. The inner leech, where the hoops are attached, is the luff. The four corners of the sail are called the clews, though some call only the outer lower corner by this name. The upper outer corner is the peak. The lower inner corner is the tack."

The skipper, after the manner of the principal, then examined the crew on the subjects just explained till he had made them proficient. He required them to point out the parts on "the real thing" before them.

"Now we will see what the jib (2) is made of. The names used vary somewhat. The part of the sail to which the hanks are fastened is the luff, or inner leech."

"Inner?" queried Ash, almost sure he was wrong.

"The sail is treated in relation to the stay, and not to the mast or the hull; and the inner leech of the mainsail is the part where the hoops are," replied the skipper, laughing; for he had made the same mistake himself in his study of the subject.

"I see; and that makes it as clear as Champlain water."

"The outer, or after, leech, called simply the leech by the high-flying yachtsmen, is the same as on the mainsail. The jib has a head and a foot also. The tack is the corner next to the stay; and the clew, as called by yachtsmen, is the after lower corner, where the sheet is attached. That's all there is of the jib. What do you call the sail marked 3 in the picture?"

"The gaff-topsail, because it is set on the gaff," replied Ash.

"It has a head and foot, and the tack and clew are in the same positions as in the jib. That makes all the sails usually set on a sloop. Now we will see how they are set and managed; and what do you call the rigging used for this purpose?"

"The running-rigging," replied all at once.

"What do you call any rope used in hoisting a sail? The principal told you some of the things I have to repeat."

"Halyards, whether attached to a spar, or to the sail itself," answered Ash.

"We will begin with the jib. The halyards lead down by the mainmast, and they are belayed on a cleat at the foot of it. The down-haul is attached to the head of the sails, as the halyards are, and leads down on the stay, sometimes passing through more or less of the hanks to keep it in place, to a block on the bowsprit, under the tack, and then inboard. It is used for hauling down the jib, as its name indicates. I suppose you all know what sheets are, and have got rid of the lubberly idea that the sails are called by this name."

"I think we all know that the sheets are ropes," added Ash.

"The jib is made fast at all points except at the clew, or at the after-clew, as some would say. By the sheets, the jib is trimmed so as to sail on the wind or otherwise. In small craft, these sheets usually lead aft, to the standing-room, or cockpit as it is sometimes called, so as to be within reach of the person sailing the boat. If there is a flying-jib, it is handled in precisely the same way."

"What is the use of a flying-jib?" asked Archie.

"It adds so much more sail; and some boats need more head-sail than others," replied the skipper. "The gaff-topsail now, if you please."

"It is a three-cornered sail, like a jib," said Con Bunker.

"Not always, though it generally is. Sometimes, in the high-flying yachts, there is a gaff-topsail yard; but this spar is not fixed, as those on the masts of a square-rigged vessel, but is hoisted up from the deck. The gaff-topsail (3) in the picture, is a three-cornered sail. A rope is attached to the head of the sail, which passes through a block near the topmast-head, and leads down to the deck. By this rope the sail is hoisted to the mast-head. What is the name of this line?"

"The gaff-topsail halyards," answered Hop.

"Of course, for the sail is hoisted by it. Another line is made fast to the lower inside corner, next to the mast, which is called the tack; and you can see that it corresponds with the tack of the jib or mainsail. The third rope passes through a block at the peak, on the gaff; and this is the sheet, as in the other sails mentioned."

"But there is a pole on Dory's gaff-topsail," said Ash.

"The halyard is made fast to this pole, as it is to the yard when the sail is square, at a point which will carry the upper end of the pole above the truck, thus allowing the sail to be larger than it could be if the halyard were attached to the head of the sail."

"What sort of a cart is the truck?" asked Archie.

"I forgot to mention it, I suppose. It is a round piece of wood, fixed on the end of the topmast, like a head upon a cane. It has a little sheave, or a couple of holes in it, through which the signal-halyards are passed. Now for the mainsail. I have already explained the throat and peak halyards, so that you know what and where they are."

"Archie knows," said Ash.

"The main-sheet is the rope by which the position of the main-boom is controlled; in other words, by which the sail is trimmed. Dory has double blocks on his sheet, so that he handles it more easily than if it were done with a single block on the boom; though he has to handle twice as much rope in doing it. I do not think of any thing more to be said in regard to the standing or running rigging of a sloop. If any thing comes up, you will learn it while we are sailing. Now we will put two reefs in the mainsail."

"Don't you reef the other sails?" asked Ben Sinker.

"The Goldwing works very well under the mainsail only, so that we shorten sail by taking in the jib. The jib of this craft does not reef, but it has a bonnet instead. This is really an additional sail, laced on at the bottom of the jib. It can be taken off or put on at pleasure. In some craft, the jib is made bigger, and is provided with one or two rows of reef-points."

The Goldwing had three rows of reef-points on the mainsail. The skipper required the sail to be lowered enough to permit one reef to be taken.

"This is a reef-pennant," said he, producing a cord of several feet in length. "Sometimes it is called an earing. I pass it through this cringle, which is only a hole in the sail, and then I carry the line around the boom,--twice will make it strong enough. This I have done at the clew, and now I do the same thing at the luff. Now, all hands, take hold, and put in the reef by tying up the points."

"This one is not long enough," said Archie, when he had got hold of both ends of a point. "It won't go round the boom."

"Of course it will not! You might as well try to pass it under the keel," replied Thad. "They don't even go through the iron jackstay. Pass them under the foot of the sail."

"Is that right?" asked Con, when he had tied one of the reef-points.

"Certainly not; it is a granny-knot: you must make nothing but square knots in a reef-point."

Thad explained how to do it, telling them to make both ends come out on the same side of the loop, or bight. They had been trained, or some of the students had, in making the most useful knots; but they had the talent for forgetting, as most boys have. A second reef was put in the sail, in the same manner, on the top of the first one. The introductory lesson was finished, the anchor was weighed, and the Goldwing stood out into the lake.

"There comes that schooner!" shouted Ash Burton.

It was the La Motte, headed up the lake.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE PLAN THAT WAS NOT SUCCESSFUL.

Just as soon as Dory dropped the painter of the tender into the water, the wind drove the boat away from the La Motte in the direction of the shore. Mackwith and Chuckworth, the two robbers who had appeared on the shore after their search in the woods for Angy, were too far off to notice it.

"Now, we must not allow ourselves to be seen or heard," said Dory, as soon as he had let go the painter. "They will find the boat, and come on board."

"But don't you think they will suspect that something is wrong for their side of the question?" asked Mr. Jepson.

"Why should they think so?" asked Dory.

"Since they left the schooner, she has been moved to her present position; and the boat in which Angy left the vessel is found on the beach."

"They may not be able to account for what they see, but it does not follow that they will suspect any thing; though it will not make much difference if they do," replied Dory, shrugging his shoulders.

"Of course, they will understand that the fellows they left on board have moved the schooner; but I am afraid they will suspect something when they find the boat on the beach," continued the machinist.

"Perhaps they will; they have a perfect right to do so: but they have been up all night, and I don't believe they will be very sharp. Possibly they drank beer enough while they were on board of the La Motte to reduce them to the condition of the fellows in the steerage. But it is not so much of a question of what they will think, as of what they will do."

"Well, their actions will be guided by their thoughts."

"That is so; but they will be guided by their conclusions, and not by all the suspicions that come into their heads," argued Dory. "Of course, it is important for us to be able to foresee what they will do, so that we may be prepared for them."

"Then, we must fathom their thoughts if we can."

"They are standing on the beach just now."

"And they are a quarter of a mile from us."

"But they are moving this way, though very slowly."

"I have no doubt they are about worn out, for they have been beating about the woods for an hour or more," said Dory, as he raised himself so as to see over the bulwarks of the schooner.

"Of course, they must see the vessel."

"I don't think they discovered her till this moment, for they have only just begun to move this way. Now what will they do?"

"They will wonder why the position of the schooner has been changed."

"Let them wonder: they will not be able to make any thing of it. When they reach the tender, they will do some more wondering."

"And they will begin to take account of the facts in their possession," added the machinist.

"That will be a sensible thing for them to do. The two principal facts before them will be the change in the position of the vessel and the presence of the tender on the shore. But the first thing they do, will be to hail the La Motte; but they will not get any answer. What will they conclude from the silence of those on board?"

"I have an idea, Dory; but what do you say?" added the machinist, with a smile which seemed to mean more than his words.

"They will conclude that the fellows on board are tired out, and have gone to sleep," replied Dory confidently. "Then they will take the boat, and come on board. About that time, our work will begin."

"I don't quite agree with you, Dory," answered Mr. Jepson. "You are the manager of this enterprise, and I think you have arranged things to lead them to another conclusion from that you suggest."

"What do you think they will do?" asked Dory, disappointed that the machinist did not seem to approve his action.

"When they find the boat on the beach, with the vessel where she is, they will conclude that the two fellows have gone ashore, and are looking for Angy, and for their absent companions," replied the machinist, with more earnestness in his manner than he had displayed before.

Dory bit his lips, for it seemed to him that there was a great deal of force in what his companion said.

"If you had left the schooner where she was, they might have reasoned that the boat was where Angy had left it," continued the machinist.

"But they would not have found the boat in that case. They would not have been likely to see her on the beach, a quarter of a mile away from them. Besides, I was not sure that the boat would be blown where they would be in the way of finding it, if I turned it adrift a mile from this shore," reasoned Dory rather warmly.

"There are difficulties, whichever way you look at the question," said the instructor, laughing at the energy of Dory. "I think we had better drop the discussion, and act upon the facts as soon as they are developed."

"All right: you think they will do one thing, and I think they will do another. The only important thing is, whether or not they will come on board of the vessel. We will wait and see."

"It is too late to alter things as you have arranged them; and I do not say that the course you have taken was not the wisest, Dory. We shall soon know."

They could do nothing but wait. It would be some time before Mack and Chuck reached the beach off the schooner; and Dory went below to see the prisoners, taking care not to show his head above the bulwarks. The two captives in the steerage were still asleep; it was a beer-slumber, though they were doubtless very tired; and they were like a pair of stone posts, so far as their appearance was concerned. Persons who were not boozy could hardly have slept so soundly in the uncomfortable positions in which they were confined.

As Dory had nothing else to do, he took a more careful survey of the cabin of the La Motte. One of the bunks in the steerage appeared to have been occupied, while the other five beds had not been disturbed. In the cabin were several valises and travelling-bags. One of the former bore the initials of the chief of the robbers. As it was not locked, he opened it.

If there was any plunder on board, it had not been put into this valise, for it appeared to contain nothing but wearing-apparel. In the pocket he found a letter, addressed to "M. A. Spickles, Esq., Plattsburg, N.Y." It was postmarked at New-York City. Dory felt that it was his duty, in connection with the enterprise in which he was engaged, to obtain all the information in his power; and he did not scruple to read the epistle, as he would not have done under ordinary circumstances.

The letter contained a great deal of slang, a good portion of which the reader could not understand. The writer, who signed himself "Fred Ripples," promised to be at Ticonderoga on Friday night, and the La Motte must take him and his party on board at that point. If the schooner was not there at that time, the party would take the first train for Westport, and would be there early Saturday morning.

With the letter in his hand, Dory went on deck, and joined the machinist under the bulwarks. Mr. Jepson read the document, and looked at Dory, though its contents did not appear to affect the present situation.

"These fellows are the other members of that club. They must be at Westport by this time," said the instructor.

"Probably they are, for a train comes along very early in the morning," replied Dory. "But Mr. Fred Ripples had nothing to do with the robberies at Plattsburg, or the one at Beech Hill; so that we have no particular business with him."

"Then, we had better drop him; for the two fellows who did have a hand in them are within a short distance of the tender," added the machinist in a lower tone.

Dory looked out through an opening in the bulwarks which he had arranged for the purpose. The two robbers looked as though they were worn out, for they moved with a very heavy step. But they were talking very earnestly together, as shown by their gestures; though what they said could not be heard on board of the La Motte. They were evidently discussing the change in the position of the vessel, and the discovery of the boat on the beach. The first thing they did was to haul the tender out of the surf, which was banging it on the gravel.

"Wick! Wick!" shouted one of them.

Then they waited some time for a reply to their hail, but none came.

"Sang! Sang!" called the other of the two.

"On board the La Motte!" yelled Mack, whose voice Dory recognized.

They seated themselves on the rail of the boat, and continued to yell for half an hour. Then an argument seemed to be in progress between them, in which one of them frequently pointed to the woods in the direction from which they had come. Presently they rose from their seats, and walked off, following the beach by the way they had come.

"Well, Dory, what does that mean?" asked the machinist, as soon as they were out of hearing.

"It means that you were right, and that I was wrong," replied Dory candidly. "I should have done better if I had left the schooner where she was."

"I don't say that; and if I had thought so at the time, I should have spoken. We will deal with the present situation," added the instructor.

"I thought the plan would work all right, and I am disappointed," said Dory. "Those fellows believe that Sang and Wick, as they call them, have gone ashore in the boat, and they have started to look for them. My strategy has failed, and I am disgusted with it."

"What shall we do? That is the question now," suggested the machinist.

"I don't like to go back to Beech Hill without those fellows, after we have spent so much time in hunting them down," added Dory.

"They will come back when they fail to find their companions."

"But I don't care about waiting all day for them. If you will go with me, we will go on shore, and take the bull by the horns. We can handle them."

"All right, Dory; but how can we get ashore? We have no boat," replied the machinist, who was quite as impatient as his younger companion.

"I will bring off the boat for you, and I will go ashore on one of the fenders."

Dory handed his revolver to the instructor, and prepared for his trip to the shore by taking off his coat and shoes. It was a trifling feat for him, and in a few minutes he was on the beach. It was a harder matter to get the boat into the water; but he had carried a line to the shore with him, so that his companion could assist in the work. The machinist hauled the boat alongside the schooner as soon as it put into the water.

They embarked, and were on the beach in a minute more. They hauled the tender to a safe place, and then walked along the beach towards the place where Mack and Chuck had disappeared in the woods. But they had proceeded only a short distance before Dory discovered a small steamer buffeting the sea beyond Bluff Point. But she leaped the waves, and seemed to be making good weather in spite of the roughness of the water.

Both of them were satisfied that the steamer was the Marian.

CHAPTER XX.

MORE MEMBERS OF THE NAUTIFELERS CLUB.

"That's the Marian, without a doubt," said Mr. Jepson. "She is going down the lake."

"She is not headed for Split Rock Point, as she would be if she were going down the lake," added Dory, after they had watched the steamer for some time. "There! She is changing her course now, and she is headed directly for Camp-Meeting Point. It looks as though she intended to take a hand in this business."

But they continued on their way, and Dory hoped to come across the two robbers before the steamer had time to interfere in the business. Before they reached the place where Mack and Chuck had taken to the woods, the Marian was off the end of the peninsula. She did not run for the La Motte, as Dory supposed she would, and kept off so as to pass the point. Then she disappeared behind the high land.

"She is not going to meddle with the schooner," said Dory. "I don't understand her movements at all."

"I am sure I don't," added the machinist.

"No matter; and I am glad she has given the schooner a wide berth."

They struck into the woods, and walked a long distance without seeing the two robbers of whom they were in pursuit. Dory had become so desperate that he shouted several times, using the names of both Mack and Chuck; but he obtained no response to his calls.

"They can't be about here, or they would answer me when I call them by name," said he, very much puzzled at the situation.

"They must have gone some other way," suggested Mr. Jepson.

"At any rate, they are not here, and we had better return to the schooner."

They retraced their steps till they came to the narrow part of the peninsula, and there was a cart-path to the end of it.

"I TELL YOU WE CAN'T GET THE VESSEL OUT OF THIS PLACE."

"They must have taken this road," said Mr. Jepson. "We had better follow this road a while before we give up the search."

"I don't see what they could be doing down there. But we will look over this region a little, and we can strike through to the beach when we like," replied Dory.

When they had gone a few rods, they came to a sandy place in the cart-path, and Dory brought his Indian craft to bear upon it. He found the footprints of two persons in the wet soil, both of them headed towards the outer extremity of the point.

"That makes it plain enough that they have come this way. I have looked for tracks before, and I could not find any," said Dory. "But we are making a blunder in the light of this information. These fellows will get down to the boat before we are there, and we shall be left out in the cold. I never thought of their coming this way, for the peninsula is very narrow."

This logic was decidedly startling to the intended thief-takers; and Dory broke into a run on the instant, and dashed through the woods towards the beach. The machinist followed him. If they had been astonished at any time during the morning at what they saw, they were infinitely more so when they came out of the woods where they could see the schooner.

On the beach abreast of the vessel they discovered, not only the two persons they were searching for, but what looked like a crowd of people to Dory's excited imagination.

He counted not less than seven men. They were in the act of putting the tender into the water, and evidently intended to go on board of the La Motte. They no longer hesitated to show themselves to the party, whoever they were.

"I don't understand this at all," said the perplexed leader of the enterprise.

"I am no better informed," replied the machinist. "But I think we had better return to the woods, and keep out of sight until we know more about this party."

"Perhaps you are right," replied Dory, adopting the suggestion.

Returning to the shelter of the trees, they moved forward till they came to a place where they could obtain a better view of the party.

"I want to know whether Mack and Chuck are in this party," said Dory in a whisper. "Yes, there they are. But who are the other fellows?"

"I shall have to give it up. They all seem to be on good terms. I thought it might be a party from the Marian, but I saw her running for Thompson's Point a few minutes ago. Whoever they are, they don't belong to the school."

"Certainly not."

"I can't stand it any longer, and I am going down to see them," continued Dory, as he examined his revolver; and the machinist did the same.

"Of course, the two who were in the boat with you this morning, will know you, Dory," said the instructor.

"I can't help it if they do: I am going down to see them. I can't imagine what the five new fellows can be, and I am determined to find out."

"The whole seven of them seem to be engaged in an argument just now," added the machinist, as he followed Dory out of the woods.

As they came near enough to identify the two Dory had seen in the boat, the argument seemed to wax very warm. Mack was the principal speaker on one side of the question. He pointed with vehemence at the lake, and the shores near him; and Dory concluded that they were engaged in a nautical discussion.

"I tell you, we can't get the vessel out of this place," said Mack warmly, when Dory came near enough to hear what he said. "The wind is blowing very fresh right on the shore, and she is not more than fifty feet from the beach."

"If you hoist the sails, there is wind enough to make her go, isn't there?" demanded one of the new-comers.

"There is wind enough to make her go ashore all in a heap," replied Mack smartly. "You don't know the first thing about handling a vessel, Fred Ripples!"

Fred Ripples! That was the name of the signer of the letter. He was one of the remaining members of the Nautifelers Club, who were to join the rest of the party at Ticonderoga or Westport. Dory looked at Mr. Jepson, and Mr. Jepson looked at him. How in the world had the new members come to Camp-Meeting Point?

The members of the club on the beach were too busy with the argument to notice the approach of Dory and the machinist. Doubtless Mack and Chuck had told the new-comers of the "break" the night before, and of the disappearance of the leader of the enterprise. But none of them had any reason to suspect that Angy had been captured.

"Is that you, Dory?" demanded Mack, as he happened to turn his head far enough to see him.

"What have you done with Angy?"

"I haven't done any thing with him," replied Dory, when the gaze of the whole party was fixed upon him.

It was a hard question under the circumstances, and Dory was not at all inclined to answer it.

"You were in the boat with him when Chuck let go of the painter, and came off this way."

"We landed in a creek, and went on shore. We sat on a log some time, while he rested himself: then he went off, and I have not seen him since," replied Dory, telling the literal truth.

"But where is he now?" demanded Mack, beginning to be furious.

"I don't know."

But it was deception all the same, though it was the literal truth. Mack and Chuck asked him a great many questions, but they could not get any thing out of him. Mr. Jepson was a man he met over in the woods.

"Then, Angy must be in the woods now," said Mack, as the conclusion of the whole matter. "We must find him, and we may as well begin at once."

"If you go far enough, you will be sure to find him," added Dory; but his statement was not very definite, and the robbers were not likely to go as far as the lock-up in Genverres to look for him.

"Where did Angy leave the tender when he landed?" asked Mack, who was far from satisfied with the result of the examination.

"In a creek, which you will find near the bight of the bay."

"How came the boat here, if he left it in a creek?"

"Of course, Sang and Wick must have come ashore after we did, and they found the boat," Chuck was kind enough to interpose before Dory could answer the question, or attempt to evade it.

"But how could they get ashore when they had no boat, and no raft even?" demanded Mack, who spoke in the imperative mood.

"What do you suppose they moved the schooner close to the shore for, if it wasn't to enable them to land?" asked Chuck, in a triumphant tone; for he was nettled at the imperious tones of Mack. "They found the boat, but they did not find Angy. Here is the tender to prove it."

"They didn't go far to look for Angy, or we should have seen them. But we are wasting time, and we must be on the lookout for Angy."

"I must have a drink of beer before I go, for I am about used up," added Chuck.

They launched the boat; and when they were in it, they upset it. Dory wanted to go on board with them, and he offered to handle the boat. He put them on the deck of the La Motte, but it was a big boat-load. They all rushed to the cabin. Dory drew the slide, and fastened the cabin-door so that they could not get out.

But the hatches were off, and the machinist was stationed at the opening with his revolver in hand. Dory was sure they could not get out by the companion-way, and he made haste to get under way, slipping the cable. The members of the Nautifelers Club were so devoted to their beer, that they did not seem to be aware that they were imprisoned in the cabin. They were quite noisy, and appeared to be bent upon having what they called "a good time," whatever became of Angy.

Mr. Jepson was a mechanical genius, and he soon found a way to cover the hatches. The jib was set, and then the La Motte did very well.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE GOLDWING ON THE STARBOARD TACK.

"Now we have got over the dictionary part of this business, and I don't think the rest of it will be quite so stupid," said Thad Glovering to his class in the Goldwing.

"Why don't you hoist the jib, Thad?" asked Hop Cabright.

"Because we have sail enough without it," replied Thad. "Ever since I came to Beech Hill, I have been hearing about the danger of carrying too much sail."

"But that schooner is carrying her jib," added Hop; and all eyes were directed to the La Motte, though she was still a mile distant.

"I am not in charge of that schooner, and I have nothing to do with her," answered Thad. "There is another of the dangers of a young skipper--that of doing as others do on the water. There is as much difference in boats as there is in men. One man can carry three hundred pounds on his back, while half that will break down another. A fellow must look at his own craft to ascertain how much sail she ought to carry. You needn't try to pick up a barrel of flour, Hop, because McGowen can do it."

"Do you suppose Dory is sailing that schooner, Thad?" asked Ben Sinker.

"Perhaps he is. I have no means of knowing any thing at all about it, but I don't believe he is. There were five fellows on board of the vessel when she was in the river yesterday, and I don't believe he and Mr. Jepson have whipped out the four of them that must have been left on board of her."

"There comes the Sylph!" exclaimed Archie.

"Let her come; but, if we are to give any attention to sailing, it is time for us to make a beginning. You may take the wheel, Ash," said Thad, rising in his place to give him the seat on the weather-side of the helm.

"But I never steered a boat with that kind of a wheel," Ash objected.

"Then, it is time you learned about it," added the skipper, resuming his seat to explain the wheel. "You can all learn about it at the same time, for each of you will have his trick at the wheel before we return."

"That's the talk! I want to steer," added Archie.

"Then, you must mind what we are doing, and not give all your head to the schooner and the Sylph; and, if there is any thing to see, I will run up to the centre of the attraction."

"We don't have a circus with a lot of robbers every day in the week; and, if there is any fun, a fellow wants to see it," added Con Bunker.

"If there is any fun, you shall see it, though I am not to meddle with that schooner. Now for the steering-gear. The best way to learn about it is to see how it is constructed," continued the skipper, as the Goldwing passed from under the lee of the bank of the river, and began to be exposed to the full force of the weather.

The sun had come out of the clouds, but the wind still blew strong from the south-west. The sloop had two reefs in her mainsail, which was the only sail she carried; but she had the wind free, and she did very well under this short canvas. The waves were piling themselves up on the point, and it still looked stormy in that direction; though the commotion was trifling in comparison with what it had been two or three hours before.

"Ugh!" yelled Archie, who was seated on the forward deck, with his legs hanging over into the standing-room, as a wave broke against the bow, and drenched him with spray. "It is damp here."

"Come aft, then: of course it will be wet in the forward part of the boat. Four of you on the weather-side, and two on the lee," added the skipper. "That will trim her about right for this sea."

"I suppose the weather-side is the side from which the wind comes," said Archie, as he took his seat on that side of the boat.

"You are quite right, Archie; and a sailor who had been at sea fifty years could not have hit it any better. If you remember that, it is not necessary to recollect that the lee-side is that from which the wind does not come. Weather and lee are important terms in a boat; and in sailing, we use them instead of starboard and port."

"Let me see: starboard is the right-hand side, isn't it, Thad?" asked Archie.

"That depends. But, Archie, you are green enough on nautical matters; now don't pretend to be any more so than you really are," said Thad, rather sharply.

"But I do get mixed on these things; and now you say it depends," pleaded Archie.

"It depends upon which way you are looking. With your face to the bow, starboard is on the right."

"Then, port is"--

"Dry up, Archie! When you have learned the meaning of one of two opposite things, that is enough," interposed the skipper. "The principal gave us the two French terms for starboard and port,--tribord and babord. Tribord means the right-hand side, looking ahead. A fellow don't need a slate and pencil to figure up the meaning of babord. Now we are going along all right, and we will look over the wheel. Can you all see it?"

"I can," replied Archie.

"The upper end of the rudder is the head of it. The tiller is set in the rudder-head, and is simply a lever for turning the rudder. The bow of the boat is called the head. If you put the helm--that is, the tiller--to starboard, what will be the effect upon the head, Archie?"

"It will turn the head," replied Archie thoughtfully.

"Turn it upside down, or turn it like a lunatic's! Which way will it turn the head when you put the tiller to starboard?" demanded Thad.

"It won't turn it upside down: it will turn it to one side," added Archie seriously.

"I should say that it would; but it is rather necessary to know to which side it would turn it."

"It would carry the head of the boat the opposite way, I should think."

"But you must know. Which is the opposite way?"

"To port; and if you put the helm to port"--

"One thing at a time, if you please. Put the helm to starboard, and it carries the head to port: that's enough. If you try to remember any thing more, Archie, you will forget the whole. As I said before, the terms weather and port are also used."

"What is the use of those terms when we have starboard and port?" asked Con.

"No conundrums of that sort. We take things as we find them, and we are not inventing a system. We speak of a weather and a lee helm. As you may see by the position of the wheel, this boat carries a weather-helm; and it only means that the trim of the craft inclines her to stick her head up into the wind, and we have to carry the helm a little to the weather-side in order to make her go straight ahead. If I should let go the wheel, the boat would come to."

"Come where?" queried Con.

"Come to means to come up into the wind, or turn her head in the direction from which the breeze comes. If she carried a lee-helm, she would turn the other way, if left to herself; and in that case she would be likely to upset, or have the mast taken out of her if it were blowing fresh. It is a good thing, therefore, to have a boat carry a weather-helm, within reasonable limits; and a lee-helm is a very bad trick in any craft."

"But suppose the boat has a lee-helm: you can't help yourself," said Syl Peckman.

"Yes, you can. Shifting the ballast will sometimes correct it, by bringing her down more by the head or stern, as the case may require. Possibly the position of the mast in a sloop may have to be changed. There are two other terms that apply to the helm."

"More of them!" exclaimed Archie. "A fellow can never remember them."

"Why not, as well as the different names of a vehicle? The other terms are up and down, and these depend upon the position of the boat in regard to the wind. When you put the tiller away from the wind, it is down. We have the wind on the port-side now. If we put the tiller to starboard, it is down. Never mind what will happen, Archie, if we put it to port. We shall have more to say about down and up farther along, when we are dealing with the sails."

"Why not tell us now, while we are on the subject?" asked Con.

"Because you will not understand it so well now as you will then. But there is another matter that may be told now. From which side do we get the wind just now, Ben?"

"From the port-side. Give me something harder," replied he.

"I will: on what tack are we sailing?" asked the skipper sharply.

"I shall have to give it up: I never could get the hang of these tacks," pleaded Con.

"I never could," added Hop.

"I think I can tell why you did not get the hang of the tacks," continued Thad. "It was because the meaning of the position was given to you in a lot of sea-slang, which you did not take in. I will tell you when a vessel is on the starboard tack: it is when the main-boom is out over the port-quarter, and the port jib-sheets are trimmed down. Now you know!"

"I am sure I don't," replied Archie.

"I am not a bit the wiser," added Con.

"My definition is not beyond your comprehension; but you are not used to thinking in that sort of lingo, though you could take in the meaning of it if you gave the time and thought to it. Ben said just now that we are getting the wind from the starboard-side. Do you all understand that?" asked Thad very forcibly.

"Of course we do," answered Archie.

"That's easy enough," chimed in several others.

"Then, if we have the wind on the port-side, we are on the port-tack," almost shouted the skipper.

"Is that all?" demanded Con. "I understand that perfectly."

"Then, we won't say another word about it, if you all understand it."

"Of course we all understand it," said several of them.

"If you insist upon being a little more pickled in speaking it, you can say she has her starboard-tacks aboard; though that expression more properly applies to a square-rigged vessel."

"Starboard-tacks aboard," repeated about every one of the class.

"I don't see what it means," said Ash.

"Then, you don't remember what the principal told you in his lecture last fall. In a ship, the ropes at the clews of the lower square-sails, the courses, change their names," said Thad, picking up the boat-hook. "Call this the yard of a ship. It would be at this angle as we have the wind;" and he placed it at an angle with the keel, with the windward end farther forward than the lee. "The rope at the weather-clew, or corner of the sail, is the tack, and the one at the lee-clew is the sheet. Now, suppose the ship to come about, and go the other way;" and he changed the position of the boat-hook. "Then the weather-side would be on the port, instead of the starboard; and what was the sheet before, becomes the tack; and the ship has her port-tacks aboard."

"The Sylph is hailing the schooner," said Ash Burton.

"She is getting out a boat," added Thad. "She wouldn't do that if something was not going on. As we can study this lesson just as well in the river, we will go and see what is up."

The skipper put the Goldwing about.

CHAPTER XXII.

SOMETHING ABOUT STEERING A SAIL-BOAT.

The Sylph lowered her starboard-quarter boat; and two men, in addition to the crew, took their places in it. The two vessels were too far off to permit the party on board of the Goldwing to see who the men were, for the sloop was now quite near the New-York shore. As soon as the boat returned to the steamer, she came about, and stood up the lake again. She kept quite near the La Motte, and therefore sailed at only half speed.

"We will go up to Beechwater, and find out what has happened," said Thad. "But we will attend to the lesson all the same. We are going to come about. Which way do I put the helm, Archie?"

"Put it either way, and she will come about," replied the student, who had earned the title of "Greenhorn," though no one was uncivil enough to apply it to him.

"If you were at the wheel, would you take the responsibility of putting the helm to port?"

"I shouldn't know any better than to do so."

"If you did, you might drown the crowd, in this breeze. But we will leave that subject to the proper time to consider it. Which way do I put the helm, Con?"

"Hard down, hard a-starboard, hard a-lee," replied Con.

"Right; and you have learned your lesson in full."

"Must a fellow say all that?" asked Archie.

"Not at all; though the expressions all mean the same thing, and Con used them all to prove that he knew what they mean. When we are going about, or going to tack, the proper way is to put the helm down, moving it slowly at first, and then hard down, which is down as far as you can get it. Ready about! That is the order to get ready to tack. Here we are!"

The skipper put the helm down, and in a moment the reefed mainsail began to shake and bang: then it went over on the other side, and filled there.

"What tack are we on now, Archie?" asked Thad.

"On the port-tack; but you did not explain the port-tack," replied the innocent youth.

"Didn't I, indeed! Then, how in the world do you happen to know that we are on the port-tack? for you are as correct as though you had been to sea all your life."

"I knew it must be the other one."

"You must have studied logic."

"With the port-tacks aboard," added Con. "Or would be, if this were a ship."

"Now we will attend to this wheel," continued the skipper. "We have been talking about a tiller. You can see that there is a cast-iron frame in the shape of a quadrant."

"I never saw a quadrant," said Archie.

"Then, you did not look when the principal showed us one,--or perhaps you were not present. But you have seen a mince-pie."

"And eaten one."

"Not a whole one at a time. If you did, you saw a winged alligator before morning. But what part of a mince-pie is about a pattern for you?"

"Say a quarter."

"That would be in the shape of a quadrant. This quadrant has a round hole cast in the right angle, which is fitted upon the rudder-head, as you can see for yourselves. On the round side of the quadrant are cogs, which fit into the cogs of the smaller wheel, under the large one, which is provided with handles, or spokes. It isn't easy to talk it, but you can see it. I am seated on the weather-side of the wheel."

"Must the helmsman always be on the weather-side?" asked Ash.

"There is no law about it; but for some reasons, it is the better side for him. He can see ahead better; and when the boat is on the wind, and she heels over, he has the higher side. Being on the weather-side of the helm, if I pull the spokes on the big wheel towards me, it turns the small wheel, which is part of the big one, in the same direction. By the action of the cogs, the round side of the quadrant is moved in the opposite direction. The quadrant is really the tiller. Then, drawing the spokes towards me is putting the helm down, which throws the boat up into the wind."

"It will not be so if you stand on the other side of the wheel," said Ben Sinker.

"Certainly not. I am standing on the starboard-side now: if I bring the spokes towards the starboard-side, it carries the quadrant, or tiller, over to the opposite side, and the head of the boat moves to starboard. You put the tiller to port to carry the head to starboard: with this wheel, the action is reversed. To sum it up short, put the spokes to starboard, and the head goes the same way. Now, Ash, you may try your hand at it, and see if it works as I say it does."

"Of course it does, for you know all about it," replied Ash.

"But a fellow never believes a thing of this sort till he has proved it," added the skipper. "Pull the handles of the wheel towards you, and it throws the head of the boat up into the wind. Remember this--'only this, and nothing more.' But there is one thing that a beginner has to learn; and that is, to steer small."

"I know about that," replied Ash.

"The others don't. A new hand is always apt to move the tiller too much. To move the tiller, or wheel, very little at a time, is to steer small. Move it gradually, and note the effect upon the boat's head."

Ash Burton took his place at the wheel; and, as he had had some experience in steering a boat with a tiller, he did very well. In fact, he was competent to handle a boat, though he had picked up his knowledge himself. But he did not boast of his skill, and wished to learn more.

"I always take an object on the shore, and steer for it, when the boat is going free," said he.

"I do, whether she is going free, or not," added Thad. "If I am close hauled, I watch both the sail and the object. When a fellow is steering, he ought to give the closest attention to the business he has in hand; and it isn't a bad rule to follow, whatever he is doing. If the helmsman doesn't mind what he is about, he keeps the boat yawing and staggering, like a man who has taken too much whiskey. I don't like to see a boat going that way. If she is kept steady, she not only makes her course better, but she gets along faster."

"I am running for the point," said Ash.

"Then, you may make too much northing. You should always take an object to windward of the point you want to reach, for the boat will always get in more or less leeway; though it don't make much difference when you have a free wind. But you can steer well enough, Ash. Let Ben Sinker try his hand at the wheel."

"I don't believe I can do it," replied Ben modestly. "I never tried to steer a sail-boat."

"Then, you are just the fellow we want. Take an object on the shore near the south side of the mouth of the river," continued the skipper.

"There is a cow," added Ben.

"Better take a train of cars on the railroad: it moves faster, and you would fetch up somewhere, though it might be on the bottom of the lake. Not an object that moves, or can move, my lad. Take that highest tree," replied Thad, as he pointed to it.

Ben took his place at the wheel, and fixed his gaze on the tree, which Ash had used for his mark. In a moment the boat was off the course; and the new hand, anxious to set her right, pulled the wheel about half way round. The skipper said nothing, for he wanted his pupils to learn by experience. The sail began to shake, as the Goldwing came up into the wind. Ben immediately put the wheel the other way: the sloop came back to her course, and then began to fall off.

"Steer small, Ben: that's what's the matter. You have her almost before the wind; and it won't do to let her go any farther round, for the sail will bang over to the other side," interposed the skipper, giving the wheel a turn. "You will send us all to the bottom at that rate."

"I told you I didn't believe I could do it," replied Ben, not a little mortified at his ill success.

"But I know you can do it: only you have made the same mistake as all new hands," added Thad, as he brought the boat to her course. "Now you are all right again. It won't do to fool with a boat when the wind is as fresh as it is now. Just move the wheel only an inch or two at a time, till you learn how much it requires."

"I see, that, if you turn the wheel only an inch, it has an effect on the head of the boat," said Ben, after he had got the hang of the wheel. "I thought you had to move it at least a foot to produce any effect at all."

"If the wind were light, it would be different," added Thad. "The whole thing is balanced, and the movement of the rudder keeps the boat in a sort of equilibrium."

"That's a big word," said Archie.

"But you all know what it means, though you may not see how it applies to a boat under sail. Suppose I haul in the main-sheet, so that the wind will blow square against it," continued the skipper, suiting the action to the word, till the boat heeled over enough to startle the timid ones.

"That takes the pressure off the wheel," said Ben.

"Because it checks her headway; and it would upset the boat, for the sail holds the wind instead of getting rid of it."

"I don't see how the sail can get rid of the wind, for it is all here," replied Archie.

Thad took a large piece of newspaper from his pocket, lifted it as high as he could reach, and then let it go.

"Which way did it go?" he asked.

"North-east," answered Syl.

"Which way is this sloop going?"

"South-east."

"What is the reason it did not go the way this boat is going?"

"Because the wind don't blow this way," replied Archie.

"Then, what makes the boat go this way, my lad?"

"Because Ben steers it this way."

"Correct; but suppose I should rig a sail in the Bouquet, and steer her with all my might, could I make her go as the Goldwing is going?"

"Of course not: she has no keel, or next to none."

"Correct again. The wind carries the paper in the direction towards which it is blowing. If the breeze struck square against the sail, it would blow the boat over to-day. We trim the sail at an angle, at a slant, with the way the wind blows. The sloop is not forced ahead, as the paper was, by the direct action of the wind."

Thad placed the bailing-bucket on the floor of the standing-room, and then with the boat-hook, passed along the side of it, caused the pail to be moved athwart-ships, though the boat-hook was carried fore and aft.

"The bucket is moved by the friction of the boat-hook, as the sail is by the friction of the wind against the canvas," said Thad. "If it were not for the keel, the boat would slide off sideways: it would be all leeway, and no headway. With the helm, we keep the several forces balanced."

The sloop went into the river; but another hand was sent to the wheel when Ben Sinker had obtained some practical idea of steering, and the lesson was continued.

CHAPTER XXIII.

OPERATIONS IN THE HOLD OF THE LA MOTTE.

The La Motte, under a reefed mainsail and a single jib, worked very well in the heavy sea to which she was soon fully exposed when she had made a short distance from the beach off which she had been anchored. Mr. Jepson had found some boards under the fore-scuttle in the forecastle, with which he had covered the hatches. On the top of them he had placed a plank, used for rolling barrels or other freight ashore, which bore equally on all the boards. Then with a handspike he worked the spare anchor upon this plank.

The seven members of the Nautifelers Club were very busy with their beer. Dory had closed the door of the steerage, and fastened it before; for he had anticipated, to some extent, the imprisonment of the party in the cabin. They had not yet discovered what had happened to Sang and Wick: the beer monopolized all their attention.

The machinist went aft when he had secured the hatchway, and strengthened the fastenings of the companion-way. As the doors opened outward, he fixed a wooden brace in such a way that they could not be moved, while a simple stick of the right length made it impossible to start the slide.

"I think they will stay where they are for a while," said the instructor, when he had completed his precautions.

"We shall not have to keep them there a great while, for the wind is very lively, and we shall soon get into the river though we shall have to beat up," replied Dory. "I should say they can't get out at the companion-way."

"I had a better chance there to work than I had at the hatchway. But in being on deck, we have all the advantage," added the machinist.

"I suppose some or all of them are armed with revolvers," suggested Dory.

"Probably they are, but they are not in a good position to use them."

Just at this moment the noise in the cabin suddenly ceased; and a moment later, there was an attempt made to start the slide at the companion-way.

"They have finished the keg of beer, I should think, for I doubt if they would be willing to leave any of it. I will go forward and have an eye to the hatches," said the instructor.

"On deck, there!" shouted one of the prisoners, whose voice Dory recognized as that of Mack.

But the new skipper of the schooner made no reply.

"On deck, there! Open the slide!" continued the successor of Angy, as he seemed to be.

Dory was entirely willing that he should use his voice to any extent he pleased, and he gave his whole attention to the steering of the vessel. Then some of the others began to yell, and it was evident that the fumes of the beer were producing some effect upon them.

The members of the Nautifelers Club then resorted to feats of strength. They pulled and jerked and wrenched at the slide and the doors. They kicked, thumped, and banged; but the slide and the doors resisted all their efforts,--mainly, perhaps, because they could not get at them so as to apply all their strength. Whatever the reason they failed to force a passage to the deck at this point, they abandoned the attempt after a short time.

Dory could hear them talking together, though he could not distinguish what they said. Of course, they were discussing the situation, and they would soon attempt to get out by the hatchway. The skipper did not expect the fastening of the door between the cabin and the hold would hold out a great while; for, if it did not readily give way, they would break down the door.

The noise in that direction assured Dory that they were already engaged in this work of demolition. A few minutes later the machinist informed him that the prisoners were in the hold. In the steerage they had an opportunity to obtain a better idea of the situation when they found Sang and Wick made fast to the stanchions which supported the berths. They could not fail to deduce from what they found there, the fact that Dory and his associate had taken possession of the vessel. By this time they could not help realizing that they were prisoners themselves. It would have been easy for them to jump, from all these appearances, to the conclusion that their leader had come to grief, and had been put in some secure place. Whether they followed out this course of reasoning, or not, Dory had no means of knowing.

"On deck, there!" shouted Mack, under the hatch.

"Don't answer them," called Dory, in a tone only loud enough for the machinist to hear him.

The call from below was several times repeated, with the same result. The ends of the boards the machinist had put over the opening, rested on the combings of the hatch; but they were not matched so that there were no cracks between them. In some places, there were apertures of an inch or more in width. The sentinel over this possible egress could hear all that was said by the prisoners. Sang and Wick had been released, and he heard them give all the information in their possession to their associates; but they could not tell what had become of the chief of the club.

"They are getting ready for operations," said Mr. Jepson, after some time.

"All right; and if they are likely to be too much for you, let me know as soon as possible," replied Dory, as he tacked, and headed the schooner towards the entrance of Kingsland Bay.

"But you can't leave the helm," suggested the machinist.

"I shall keep the schooner near the shoal water on this side of the lake; and if you want me, I shall haul down the jib and anchor," added Dory.

At this moment Mr. Jepson made a sharp hit with a stick he had found on the deck, at the boards which covered the hatch. A hideous yell of rage and pain followed the blow. Dory could understand, without an explanation, that one of the fellows below had thrust his fingers through one of the openings between the boards, and that the machinist had rapped them with his weapon.

"That was Mack," said the sentinel, who had learned the sound of his voice by this time. "He will have a lame hand."

Then a lively sound of snapping boards came up from the hold; and it was clear that the desperate prisoners were tearing down one of the bunks to obtain the material of which they were built, for use in the next operation, whatever it might be. The machinist divined the purpose to which the pieces were to be applied. He looked about him for the means of meeting the new attempt. There was an axe in the waist, which had been used in cutting up fuel for the cook-stove in the cabin.

The machinist took possession of it, and rushed back to his post. At every opening between the boards, a stick was thrust through, and the prisoners were trying to pry apart the pieces that covered the hatch. With a blow of the axe, the instructor broke off every end that came through. It was lively work for him for a few minutes; but not a single lever of the half-dozen used, could be made to accomplish any thing. This attempt was a failure, like those which had preceded it.

A silence of some minutes followed, and then Dory heard the voices of the party in the cabin; but they were more quiet than they had been at any time before. Doubtless, things were beginning to look more serious to them. The boards at the hatch had been tested; and, when the prisoners left the hold, the machinist joined the skipper on the quarter-deck. The party below did not seem to be doing any thing; but presently there was another demonstration at the hatchway, and Mr. Jepson rushed forward to repel any attack in that quarter.

The sticks were brought into use again, and the machinist was kept busy breaking off the ends of them for some time. Dory watched him with interest until he heard a strange noise behind him. When he turned to see what it was, he discovered Mack in the act of coming over the taffrail to the deck. He had only time to take a turn in the tiller-rope he had held in his hand to assist him in holding the helm, before the robber rushed upon him.

"I have got at you at last, and we will settle it here and now!" exclaimed Mack, as he threw himself upon the skipper.

Dory had expected to see a revolver staring him out of countenance, when he discovered the approach of his assailant, and he had put his hand on his own weapon. But when Mack sprang upon him, he was ready for him. It was a short struggle, though a very violent one; and Dory held his man by the throat till the machinist came to his aid. Together they tied his arms behind him, and rolled him into the scuppers.

During the brief absence of the instructor from his post, the prisoners made some progress in enlarging the openings between the boards; and, if their work had not been checked, they would soon have made their escape. A part of them appeared to have been sent there to make a diversion for the benefit of those who were to operate at the stern.

There were two stern windows to light the cabin, and there was no skylight on deck. The prisoners had removed the sash, and one of them had reached the deck in this way. Dory had no doubt the rest of them would follow their leader; but, as they could come only one at a time, he thought he should be able to take care of them, with what assistance Mr. Jepson could give him. It must take some time for each of them to crawl through the small window,--which did not seem to be large enough to admit the passage of a man,--and more time to climb to the deck after they got out; so that they were not likely to have to deal with more than one at a time.

The skipper found that he could leave the helm for a minute or more with the tiller lashed, and he went to the taffrail to see who was coming next. Mr. Fred Ripples had just worked his body through the window, and was ready to ascend to the deck.

"Hand me my club," said he, in a low tone, to those in the cabin.

Dory picked up one of the hard-wood sticks, which the members of the club had used as canes, he thought, and, after adjusting the helm again, returned to the taffrail. Ripples had got hold of the woodwork above him. Dory used his stick, and the new-comer dropped into the lake.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE DEFENDERS OF THE PIRATE-SCHOONER.

Mr. Fred Ripples seemed to be very much surprised when he found himself in the lake instead of on the deck of the La Motte. He had come out of the cabin-window backwards, so that he could get hold of the taffrail above his head, without turning his body. The instant he placed his hand on the rail, Dory delivered the blow with his stick. He did not strike hard enough to break his hand, but only with force sufficient to make him let go.

As this hand, after he had passed out of the window far enough to reach the rail, was all that supported him, he rested upon nothing the moment he released his hold. When he went down into the water, he manifested his surprise by a loud yell. As he appeared to be alarmed, Dory was afraid he would be drowned, for the rough water was not favorable to the restoration of one's lost self-possession.

"Get hold of the boat!" shouted the skipper, when he realized the situation.

Ripples had already seized upon the painter, which happened to be within his reach; but, instead of moving towards the boat, he went the other way, and, with the aid of the rope, set about climbing over the stern of the schooner. But Dory could not watch him any longer; and he returned to the tiller, for the vessel's sails had begun to shake in the wind.

Mr. Jepson seemed to be busy in chopping away at the sticks which the prisoners forward were still thrusting through the openings in the coverings of the hatchway. The machinist thought he must have cut up about all the wood they had provided below for use; but no decided impression had been produced by their labors upon the substitute for the hatches.

Ripples worked desperately in his attempt to climb over the stern, and Dory saw his head above the taffrail. He procured a couple of lines, and then went to the assistance of the fellow. Taking him by the collar of the coat, which was within his reach, he dragged him over the rail of the stern, and deposited his carcass upon the deck. The moment the machinist saw him, he rushed aft. Dory put his foot on the enterprising climber, and held him down while his associate secured his arms behind him. Standing him up by the side of Mack, the instructor hurried forward, to make sure that there was no break at the hatches.

The last comer upon the deck was so exhausted by his struggles in climbing over the stern, that he puffed like a grampus, and was not in condition to make any remarks upon the situation, even if he had been disposed to do so. Having righted the helm, and secured it again, Dory took a look over the stern. Another head was out of the window, and it was evident that the rest of the party intended to come on deck in the same manner as the first two. The skipper placed his stick where it would be available.

There were seven more of them in the cabin and hold: but Dory felt that he held the key to the situation as long as the covering of the hatchway did not yield to the force applied to it below. He was perfectly willing the party should come on deck one at a time over the stern. As no one had attempted to use any revolvers, he concluded that they had none.

It was a difficult matter to make the ascent from the cabin-window to the taffrail; and those who had done it, came up more or less exhausted, which gave Dory and the machinist all the advantage. The vessel was close in with the entrance of the bay, and it was necessary to tack again. As soon as he had done so, he took another look over the stern. There were two heads in sight this time. The operators had taken out the other window, and evidently intended to come up two at a time.

"On deck, there!" shouted Chuck, when he heard Dory's step on the deck above him.

"What is it?" asked the skipper, stepping back, and putting his hand over his mouth so as to change the tone of his voice.

"Is that you, Mack?"

"All right," answered Dory.

"Haven't you knocked those two fellows over yet?" demanded Chuck impatiently; and it was evident from the question, that he expected assistance from the deck by this time.

"All right: we have knocked them both over, and secured them," answered Dory, adding a fit of coughing to his muzzled voice; but he did not deem it necessary to define more particularly the identity of the two fellows who had been knocked over.

Chuck seemed to be satisfied with the answer, and immediately he called to his companions in the hold; though Dory did not understand what he said. The machinist had been strengthening his works at the hatches, by piling on the boards over the opening, all the heavy articles he could find on the deck. While he was thus engaged, all the party in the hold left, doubtless at the call of Chuck, who appeared to have succeeded Mack in the command.

The two prisoners on deck had been placed in the waist, and they were too far off to hear what passed between Dory and Chuck. As soon as the departure of the fellows in the hold would permit, Mr. Jepson hastened aft. Dory gave him the helm, and went to the stern, though he was careful not to show himself to the operators below.

At the stern of the vessel was a pair of davits, at which the tender was usually hoisted up. A glance at them, and a knowledge of their use, suggested the means of preventing the rest of the party below from coming on deck.

"On deck! Why don't you open the doors of the cabin so that we can come out?" shouted Chuck, who had retreated to the cabin, considering it no longer necessary to risk the necks of his followers in the difficult ascent from the cabin through the window. "Why don't you let us out? Open the cabin-doors!"

"They won't open," replied Dory.

"Then, take that stuff off the hatchway! We don't want to stay down here all day," added Chuck, very much discontented with the situation, and especially with the failure of his companions to do any thing.

"Only two of us here on deck. We have to work the vessel, and that is all we can do," added Dory, coughing again with all his might; while the machinist stood at the tiller, laughing at the farce, as it seemed to him.

"Open the doors, and let us up, and we will help you," persisted Chuck.

"You keep quiet where you are! We will let you out as soon as we have time to clear the stuff from the hatchway," said Dory.

"We can't keep quiet: the keg of beer is empty.--But we can tap another," answered Chuck; and the last remark seemed to indicate a sudden new idea.

Dory was not willing to encourage him to drink any more beer; and he left his place at the stern, to end the conversation. At this moment he took a survey of the lake, and discovered the Sylph coming out of the river. He had been expecting to see her for the last two hours, and her appearance was a source of intense delight to him.

"Our troubles will soon be over," said the skipper to the machinist, as he pointed up the lake at the steam-yacht.

"Our troubles!" exclaimed Mr. Jepson. "Why, Dory, I had made up my mind that you rather enjoyed this circus."

"I am sure, I don't enjoy it a bit more than you do, sir," replied the skipper, somewhat astonished at the remark.

"You certainly need not have engaged in this affair if you had not been so disposed."

"I think I speak the honest truth when I say that I believed these villains would escape if I did not do something; and that was my only motive in undertaking to capture them, or at least in watching to see where they went," replied Dory, as though he were defending himself from a criminal charge. "Perhaps I did more than was necessary, but I could not very well help doing it."

"Two-thirds of the students would have considered it as a jolly time, if they could have taken part in the affair. At any rate, we shall hand over the whole of the crowd to the principal, and he can do as he pleases with them."

"He will put them through, you may be sure of that."

Dory went forward to see if there was any further movement to remove the cover from the hatchway. But he felt, now that the Sylph was in sight, that the battle had been fought, and that the victory had been won. He could not help thinking of what the instructor had said to him, and he began to look back at the events of the morning. If he had returned to Beech Hill with the carpenter, when he conducted Angy to the school, Mack and Chuck would certainly have found the tender where he left it, returned to the schooner, and made their escape. This was the way it looked to him, and he was satisfied with what he had done.

"I should like to know what all this means," said Ripples, as Dory passed him in the waist on his return from the hatchway.

Dory looked at him, not being able to understand what he meant; for he thought he ought to be able to comprehend his situation. But the fellow looked as though he had a grievance.

"It means that you are bound with your arms behind you, and are made fast to the rail. I should think you would be able to take that in," he replied.

"But for what reason am I bound? Are you and the other fellow lake-pirates?" demanded Ripples.

"I rather think not; and it seems to me that the boot is on the other leg. Your party were engaged in a robbery, and you have all come to grief," added the skipper.

"Engaged in a robbery!" exclaimed Ripples. "Do you mean to say that I was engaged in a robbery?"

"The fellow alongside of you certainly was, as I shall be called upon to testify in court. You were found in his company, and did your part in defending the pirate-schooner," replied Dory.

Ripples looked intensely indignant.

CHAPTER XXV.

A SELFISH VIEW OF AN IMPORTANT QUESTION.

Mr. Fred Ripples was evidently a wild young man, but he looked indignant enough to be honest when charged with being a defender of the pirate-schooner. Dory knew that he had not been with the original party, and had come on board of the vessel since the robbery of the office had been committed.

"I don't think I understand you any better than you understand me," said Dory, when it occurred to him that Ripples might be an honest young man, even if he did drink beer.

"Do you understand it, Mack?" asked Ripples, turning to his fellow-prisoner at his side.

"Don't ask me any thing about it, Fred," replied Mack, in a tone of disgust. "Some of us are in a bad scrape, and I shall not say a word to any one."

"I don't understand you any better than I do this other fellow," continued Ripples. "If I am in a bad scrape, I don't know it."

Mack refused to say another word, and evidently did not mean to commit himself. By this time, Dory had become not a little impressed by the manner of Ripples, and by the refusal of Mack to speak. He removed the line which bound the former to the rail, and led him to the quarter-deck, where he seated him on the companion. Then he took the tiller.

"I should really like to know what you mean by what you have said and done," said Ripples.

"Are you not a member of the Nautifelers Club?" asked Dory.

"Without a doubt, I am; and the Club was formed for this excursion during the summer. We joined the vessel this morning, and Mack said you were trying to get the schooner away from the Club when you fastened us all below. That's all I know about this business," added Ripples.

"If you don't know any thing more, I am glad of it."

"I haven't the least idea what Mack means when he says he is in a bad scrape," he continued.

"He told you the truth; and he will probably get some years in the State prison for his share in the operations of last night."

"Is that so?" asked Ripples, apparently appalled at the intelligence. "Can you tell me what has become of Angy? None of these fellows seem to know."

"They don't know, and I shall not tell you just yet; though he is in just as bad a scrape as Mack. When was this club formed?" asked Dory.

"About a month ago. Angy was the leading spirit in getting it up. He said the rich fellows would find the money to pay the bills, and we should have a first-class time for two or three months on the lake. I put in fifty dollars to start the thing, and three or four of the fellows did the same."

"But how happened you to be separated from the others?" asked the skipper.

"Angy did not want the whole of us to come at first."

"Why not?" asked Dory, who was beginning to see through the business.

"I don't know. He said the vessel would not be ready, and he would write to us when she was fit to take us on board. He did write to us the other day, and told us to come to Ticonderoga yesterday, and then to come on to Westport if the La Motte was not there."

"You did not find her there?"

"No; and we were called at three o'clock this morning, and came to Westport. Our fellows were all as mad as hops when they did not find the schooner there. It was a horrible storm in the night, and I suppose that was the reason she was not there. A young fellow in a handsome little steamer came near the shore where we were waiting, and I hailed her. After some teasing, he consented to take us down the lake. When we saw the La Motte, we asked him to put us ashore on that point, which he did."

"How did you know it was the La Motte when you saw her?" asked Dory.

"By that signal," replied Ripples, pointing to what looked like a red handkerchief in the main rigging. "Angy told me that would be his signal."

"Did you tell the young fellow in the small steamer that you were looking for the La Motte?"

"For some reason, which he did not explain in his letter, Angy told us not to mention the name of the vessel, or to say any thing about her," replied Ripples. "We told the young man, who appeared to be in command of the steamer,--I believe she was called the Marian,--that we were going to camp out on Camp-Meeting Point; for we had all studied the charts of the lake."

"Did all the members of the club pay fifty dollars?" inquired Dory.

"No, indeed! Not more than four of them did it; and Angy wrote me, a week ago, that the money was all gone."

"Did he ask for more?"

"He did not. He said he would raise the money; though I could not see where he was to get it, for his father is a poor man now. But all the fellows that came up with me have from fifty to a hundred dollars apiece. Angy must be short of cash by this time."

"I think he has made some money since he reached the lake," added the skipper quietly.

"How could he make any money?" demanded Ripples, surprised at the idea.

"By breaking open safes; and he did a job of that kind last night."

"Angy!" exclaimed Ripples, with a start.

"Angy and Mack did it together, while Chuck took care of the boat, and the other two fellows remained on board of the La Motte."

"You don't mean so! Angy and Mack broke open a safe!"

"Blowed it open."

"All I have to say about it is, that I had nothing to do with the robbery, and did not have any suspicion that Angy meant to do such a thing," protested Ripples very warmly. "And the fellows that came with me are as innocent as I am."

"Angy got over two thousand dollars from a safe last night, though the money was taken from him after he was captured. He is in the lock-up by this time, and the rest of these fellows will soon be there; that is, the five that were in the schooner last night."

"What is that steamer?" asked Ripples, as the Sylph came near the La Motte.

"Probably there are officers on board of her, who will take charge of Mack and the rest of the five. My uncle owns her; and I will tell him about you," added Dory, as he brought the schooner to, at a signal from the pilot-house of the Sylph.

The quarter-boat was lowered into the water, and the two officers on board of her were soon placed on the deck of the schooner. It was too rough for the principal to attempt to do any thing more; and one of the officers gave a message to Dory, instructing him to take the vessel to the school. The La Motte filled away again, and the Sylph followed her.

"What have you got here, Dory?" asked Mr. Bushby, the deputy-sheriff, pointing at the prisoner fastened to the rail.

"We have nine in all. The other seven are fastened into the hold and cabin. But five of them had nothing to do with the robbery, and didn't know any thing about it. They did not come on board of the schooner till about an hour ago; though they tried to break out of the cabin when we fastened them in," replied Dory.

"You have had a regular circus of it, and your uncle was afraid you would get hurt;" added Mr. Bushby.

"We have been in a sort of conflict all the time, but no one on our side has been hurt; though I think some of the prisoners have sore fingers."

"Of course, these fellows were provided with pistols," suggested the officer.

"The chief had one, and he snapped it in my face, though it did not go off; but I have not seen a revolver or any other dangerous weapon in the hands of any other member of the party, though I believe this prisoner has one."

"You say you have fastened them into the cabin?" queried Mr. Bushby.

"I will tell you all about it;" and Dory proceeded to do so.

Before he had finished his narrative, the La Motte had entered the river. The Sylph came up within hailing-distance of her, and directed her to come to under the lee of the shore. As she did so, the steamer came alongside of her; and Captain Gildrock directed the captain to have the two vessels lashed together.

The principal had a smile on his face when he came on the deck of the schooner, though he did not abate one jot of his dignity. Dory did not expect to be censured, but he did not like the looks of that smile; and he was sure that it had been put on for his benefit. It was an indication that his uncle did not fully approve what he had done, though he would not condemn him till he knew all the facts in the case. He knew that Captain Gildrock never encouraged any thing like knight-errantry in the students. He liked manly boys, but he did not believe that they should be any older than their years would allow.

The sails of the schooner were lowered; and the Sylph went ahead, towing her up the river. The principal spoke very kindly to Dory, but the smile still played upon his face. He hardly looked at the prisoners on deck, and seated himself on the rail. At his request, Dory gave a minute account of every thing that happened since he heard the explosion early in the morning.

His uncle listened with deep interest, and occasionally asked a question. Once or twice they were disturbed by the racket made by the prisoners in the cabin. Possibly they had tapped another keg of beer, but nothing indicated that they were aware of the state of things on deck.

"I am not going to blame or condemn you for what you have done, Dory; but I wish you had come home when Mr. Brookbine did," said Captain Gildrock, with the smile somewhat intensified, when his nephew had finished his narrative, and the two vessels were just going into Beechwater. "And I should have liked it still better if you had kept entirely away from the robbers. You have endangered your life, and frightened your mother almost out of her wits."

"I thought I ought to do something, and I did the best I could," replied Dory. "You have got back all the money that was stolen; and all the robbers have been captured, and handed over to the officers."

"As a boy of seventeen, you have conducted your pursuit with remarkable skill; you have been courageous beyond your years; you have been persistent and persevering to a degree that could hardly have been expected of many men of mature age. I appreciate your skill, courage, and perseverance; and still, I wish you had not done these things, though they will add greatly to your reputation."

"Then, I ought to have turned in after the explosion, and let these fellows do the same thing over again in some other place?" added Dory, with a cheerful smile, for he did not consider himself at all damaged by what his uncle had said.

"The reason why I wish you had not done these things is a purely selfish one,--simply because you exposed yourself to a very great peril. If that revolver had not missed fire, you might have been killed."

"If one of the fellows fall overboard, I am to let him drown because my mother will be frightened, or because I take the risk of drowning myself," said Dory, laughing now.

His uncle bit his lip, and Dory felt that he had the best of the argument. At any rate, the uncle did not think it wise to say any thing more about the matter; and the schooner was made fast to the wharf. The Goldwing landed her crew a little later.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"SEE, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES!"

The Goldwing had hardly landed her crew, before the Lily came up to the wharf. Then came the Marian, whose party had not lost sight of the schooner, though they had no suspicion that their late passengers had any relations with the robbers. All the students were so much excited by their curiosity to know more about the robbers, and about the doings of Dory, that sailing and handling a steam-yacht were for the time lacking in interest to them. The captains of the several craft had full powers, and they could instruct and practise their crews as well in the river as on the lake.

All the students, therefore, were soon collected on the wharf. As soon as Dory showed himself on the deck of the La Motte, he was loudly and enthusiastically cheered by his companions, who had learned enough about his exploits to understand that he had captured about all the laurels earned in connection with the robbery.

Not only the students had gathered on the wharf, but every person, including the domestics, had rushed there as soon as it was known that the schooner had arrived. Not a few people from the town swelled the crowd. The prisoner who was bound to the rail, and Ripples with his arms still tied behind him, were in sight of the spectators. There was evidence enough that something had been done in the capture of these fellows.

"Where is Dory?" almost screamed Mrs. Dornwood, as she saw Captain Gildrock on the deck of the La Motte. "Is he hurt? Has he been shot, or any thing?"

"He is here, and he is all right, Patty," replied the principal.

"Then, let me see him, and be sure of it," added the poor mother.

Dory was just then pointing out to the officers the manner in which the machinist had secured the opening to the hold, and he was not in sight of those on the wharf.

"Here, Dory!" called the principal. "Your mother wants to see you."

Dory came to the waist, for he was devoted to his mother; and the only thing that grieved him in connection with the events of the morning, was the fact that she had been alarmed about him. He sprang lightly upon the rail of the vessel; and the moment he showed himself again, there was a fresh outburst of applause, in which the servants of the house and the citizens of the town joined, though the students engineered the cheers. Dory stood on the rail a moment, looking for his mother in the crowd.

"Here he is, Patty, with a wreath of laurels on his brow!" shouted the captain, laughing. "I would rather have lost the money, and ten times as much more, and let the robbers escape, than had him run the risk he has incurred; but it can't be helped now, Patty. He has had a revolver snapped in his face, and has had a mortal struggle with the chief in an open boat in a heavy sea, to say nothing of bagging nine wide-awake ruffians at one haul of the net."

But Dory had jumped down from the rail of the vessel, and his mother clasped him in her arms as though he were not a great fellow of nearly eighteen, and as though she had not seen him for ten years. The crowd cheered again when the captain finished his little speech, which he got off more as a pleasantry than as a serious matter; a sort of acknowledgment, which had been wrung from him by circumstances beyond his control.

Dory was like other boys, and he did not exactly like to be hugged by his mother in the presence of so many people; but even the boys thought it was quite natural and proper. In vain Dory protested that he had not been hurt, and that it was not a very big thing to "shake down" such a fellow as Mr. Michael Angelo Spickles: his mother kept on hugging him, and the crowd kept on cheering him.

"But I must go on board, mother; for these fellows are all shut up in the cabin still, and I know something about them," protested the hero, trying to break away from her. "Just as soon as the officers take them away, I will tell you all about it."

At last she permitted him to leave her, and he jumped upon the rail; but his appearance, where he could be seen by all, was the signal for another outbreak of applause.

"'See, the conquering hero comes!'" exclaimed the principal, who was also standing on the rail.

"You are cutting it altogether too fat, uncle Royal," said Dory, laughing; though he did not often address this style of remark to him. "Where is Mr. Jepson?"

"He is assisting in opening the hatch," replied the principal.

"I should like to inquire if he was not with me, for I have a very distinct impression that he took an active part in all that was done."

"Mr. Jepson!" called the principal.

"See, the other conquering hero comes!" shouted Dory, as the machinist came into the presence of the captain.

"What is the matter, Dory?" asked the instructor.

"They are making game of me all around, and I want you to help me out with it."

"I am entirely sincere in all I have said," added Captain Gildrock. "You deserve all the praise you have received, and all you are likely to receive in the future, for your bravery and skill; though I wish you had not exposed yourself."

"But Mr. Jepson has been with me all the time, and I am not guilty of any more bravery and skill than he is. I could not have done any thing alone; and he did just as much as I did with his head and his hands, and he deserves to be slobbered as much as I do."

"Three cheers for the instructor in mechanics!" shouted a student who had heard the conversation.

They were given with quite as much vim as those for Dory.

"But Dory was the leader of the enterprise, though I did the best I could to support him," added the machinist.

"You have done exceedingly well, both of you; but we will drop this subject for the time, and open the cabin-doors," said the principal, as he led the way to the quarter-deck of the schooner.

It was an easy matter to remove the brace which secured the cabin-doors, and to take out the strip of board which held the slide in its place. If either Mack or Ripples had had a moment of liberty after he came on deck from the cabin-window, he could have released his companions below. After Dory's talk with Chuck over the stern of the vessel, the party below were quiet, evidently believing that the deck was in possession of the two who had made their egress through the cabin-windows.

When the door was opened, Chuck, as the leader by succession, was the first to step on the deck. He could not have helped hearing the tramp of many feet on the planks over his head, but he had no positive knowledge of what was going on. He seemed to be astonished at the fact that the vessel was alongside a wharf, and he looked with amazement on the crowd that had gathered near the La Motte.

"What sort of a circus is this?" demanded he, bewildered, as he looked around him.

"It's all up with us, Chuck," said Mack at the rail. "Shut your mouth, and keep it shut."

"But I don't understand what all this means," persisted the astonished successor of Mr. Spickles. "Didn't you tell me that you had knocked over the two fellows on deck, and taken possession of the vessel?"

"No, I didn't!" snapped Mack, who did not appear to be in an amiable mood.

"That was a bit of strategy on the part of Dory," interposed the machinist.

"I told you that we had knocked over the two fellows, but they were the two you sent on deck through the cabin-windows," added Dory.

"There seems to be two classes of these men," said Mr. Bushby. "A part of them had no hand in the robbery, and were not in the vessel at the time; but I don't know them apart."

"This is one of the robbers: he went to the shore with the two who blowed up the safe, and helped them off," added Dory. "The one who is tied to the rail is the fellow that was in the office with Angy."

"Who is Angy?"

"He is the one in the lock-up."

The four companions of Ripples were the next to appear, and Dory declared that they were not of the robbers; and he believed that they knew nothing about the robbery, either before or after the crime was committed. Sangfraw and Wickwood were the last to show themselves, and they were still quite boozy with the beer they had drunk.

"These two were on board of the La Motte, and were the ship-keepers; while the other three went ashore to commit the robbery," continued Dory.

"Then, I shall hold them; for they knew all about it, to say the least," said Mr. Bushby, as he and his associate slipped the handcuffs on their wrists, as they had done with Chuck.

"Did Ripples know any thing about the robbery?" asked the principal of the last two.

"Not a thing," replied Sang promptly.

"I came here for the most honest frolic in the world," protested Ripples.

"You can take the strings off his arms if you like," said Mr. Bushby. "I have heard enough to satisfy me that five of them had nothing to do with the robbery, and I shall not arrest them."

"This will be a big lesson to me," said Ripples, as Dory removed the line from his arms.

The next thing was to search the vessel. Sang and Wick had weakened, and were willing to tell all they knew about the ill-starred cruise of the La Motte. With their assistance, a considerable sum of money was found concealed under Angy's berth, together with other articles which showed that the party had been engaged in the robberies at Plattsburg. Before noon the four guilty ones were shut up with Mr. Spickles in the lock-up.

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE GUESTS OF THE INSTITUTION.

Ripples and his four companions were glad to find they were not involved in the disaster which had overtaken the other half of the Nautifelers Club. When the crowd on the wharf dispersed, they remained; for their plans for the immediate future had been sadly deranged. But they were at liberty to go where they pleased.

After they had discussed their situation for a while, they went into the boat-house, hoping to find Captain Gildrock there. But no one was there. It was so near dinner-time that the boats did not go out again that forenoon. The La Motte, deserted by everybody, lay at the wharf; and they went on board of her. But the principal soon appeared, and invited them to dine with the students, which they thought was very kind of him.

After dinner he went to the wharf with them again. They had put their bags and valises on board of her; and so far, they had been unable to make up their minds what to do. The principal went into the cabin of the schooner with them. On the table was mounted a cask of beer, which the party had opened when they were prevented from coming on deck.

"When a lot of young men fasten themselves to a beer-keg, it is not at all difficult to tell what will become of them," said the principal, as he seated himself on the locker in front of the berths. "It is to them just what whiskey is to older men, and the whiskey, in this country, is pretty sure to follow the beer."

"I never thought there was any great harm in beer," replied Ripples.

"I should say that it helped your friend Spickles into the lock-up. Of course, he had some bad tendencies; but they were stimulated by his beer. I may be wrong, but I do not believe he would have made so short a career of evil without the help of beer."

"Let's throw it overboard, fellows," suggested Ripples to his companions.

"All right!" shouted several of them, impressed by the lesson which the principal drew from the fate of Spickles.

A couple of them hastened on deck with the half empty beer-keg, and threw its contents into the lake. The others searched for more of the article; and they found two kegs of it in the hold, which followed the first lot.

"No more beer for me!" exclaimed Ripples.

Two of the others said the same thing, and two said nothing; but all of them seemed to be satisfied that beer was a dangerous luxury for young men. The principal enlarged a little on the subject. He said that men, old as well as young, were sometimes led so near the abyss of crime as to be saved, even when they were hanging over it. They went far enough to see into it, and the sight reformed them. He thought the five before him ought to take warning from the fate of their companions; and they had apparently accepted the warning.

"You came up to the lake to spend your vacation, I understand," continued Captain Gildrock.

"Yes, sir: that is what we came for. It seems now that Angy had planned a series of robberies, from which he was to obtain the funds to carry on the excursion for a couple of months; but we knew nothing about that. We are all sons of men of standing in New York, and I begin to think we were to furnish the respectability for the crowd."

"Very likely," added the principal with a smile. "If Spickles had reached the schooner without being discovered, he would have been at Ticonderoga this morning before you left; that is, if the violent storm had not upset his calculations. He would have taken your party on board; and with the proceeds of the burglaries, amounting to several thousand dollars, he would have been able to run the schooner all summer."

"I had no suspicion that he was such a fellow," added Ripples, shaking his head. "But I confess that I am greatly disappointed at the failure of the excursion, though I have no doubt it is the best thing in the world for us."

"So far as the excursion that was planned in New York is concerned, it is certainly a godsend to you that it failed; and even if half of your club had not come to grief, the result would have been the same. A month or two in company of such fellows as the burglars, guzzling beer, would have taken you a long way down towards a life of dissipation and evil."

"I begin to think so myself. I suppose my father will read about this affair in the newspapers; and I am sure it will make him shake," continued Ripples. "I will write to him as soon as I get a chance, and tell him all about it."

"If you will give me his address, I will give him my impressions of the matter," said Captain Gildrock.

"Thank you, sir: you are very kind, and I should be glad to have you tell him that his son has not been guilty of any crime. But I suppose we might as well go home: our fun here is spoiled," replied Ripples.

"The proposed excursion, as you understood it, was certainly an innocent one. For what time had Spickles chartered this vessel?" asked the principal.

"For two months; and paid down for one month."

"As you are a part of the party, it seems to me that the schooner belongs to you for the time it was engaged; and there is nothing to prevent you from making the excursion around the lake, and remaining upon it as long as you please," suggested the captain.

"There is only one thing in the way of doing that: we have no skipper, and we are not competent to handle the vessel. Angy was the only one of us who knew how to handle a schooner, though Mack and Chuck knew something about the business," replied Ripples.

"If you will remain in the vicinity of Beaver River, I will furnish a person to instruct you in managing the vessel. You are welcome to remain as long as you please at the school," added the principal.

Ripples and his companions thanked the captain for this privilege, and manifested a good deal of interest in the affairs of Beech Hill. By this time the students had gathered in the schoolroom to attend to the lecture which had been suspended, and the guests of the institution were invited to be present.

"I have fully explained to you all that it is possible to have you comprehend in regard to a ship, or any square-rigged vessel, without actual practice," the principal began, as he took his place on the platform. "As I said this morning, I prefer to tell you what you want to know."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, at least a dozen hands were raised; and it was plain that the students were primed with questions in regard to nautical matters, and wanted their information from competent authority.

"What is sailing on a bowline? I found it in a book the other day," asked Bark Duxbury, when the principal nodded to him.

"You pronounce it as though it were two words. Say bo-lin," replied the principal, as he went to the blackboard, and drew one side of a topsail, showing the leech.

"The main to' bowline is what I want to know about," added Bark.

"You have been trying to put yourself into the pickle," added the principal with a smile, as he noticed the manner in which he clipped out the p. "This is the leech of the main-topsail, we will suppose, though it will answer just as well for any other sail. These are the bridles," he added, as he drew three lines of unequal length from the leech at the lower part.

Then starting a line from above the upper one, he carried it so as to touch the outer end of each of the short ones, and continued it in a curve for some distance from the leech.

"The long line is the bowline, and the short ones are the bridles. The bowline leads to the foremast, and through a block down to the deck. All the square-sails may be provided with bowlines, which lead forward, either to a mast or to a stay. They are used only on the windward-side of the ship."

"What are they for, sir?"

"They are used only when the ship is close-hauled; and by them the leech of the sail is hauled forward so as to catch all the wind there is," replied the principal.

"I don't know about close-hauled," said Rag Spinner.

"Tell him, Ash Burton."

"A vessel is close-hauled when she is sailing as nearly as she can to windward, as when she is beating," answered Ash.

"Precisely so; and a vessel is sailing on a bowline when she is as close to the wind as she can get. On a taut bowline is the same thing."

"Is it proper to use that expression about a boat, the Goldwing or the Lily?" asked Bark.

"It might pass if you wished to be extra salt, though it is hardly applicable. In fact, bowlines are but little used nowadays."

"What is scudding under bare poles?" asked Sam Spottwood.

"It is a literal expression, and means sailing without any sail set. In a heavy gale, a very heavy one, when a ship can carry no sail, she sometimes scuds before the wind."

"What is wearing?" inquired Archie Pinkler.

"Do you know what tacking means?"

"Yes, sir: it is changing from one tack to another."

"To the other, for there are only two tacks in this sense. But which way do you come about?"

"Stick her head right up into the wind," answered Archie, using an expression he had learned that morning.

"Right, my boy: you are quite a sailor. Sometimes the head of the vessel will not come about: it may be on account of a current, or a want of head-sail. In that case, she has to wear around the other way, with the wind, instead of against it. Box-hauling, in a square-rigged vessel, is wearing by backing the head-sails, those on the foremast."

The students continued to ask questions of this kind till the clock struck two, and then they were dismissed to sail the boats.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

STATIONS FOR GETTING UNDER WAY.

"My occupation is gone, like Othello's," said Thad Glovering, when the students assembled on the wharf after the lecture. "Dory can teach his own flock now."

"But I have another class for you," interposed the principal, who happened to hear the remark. "The remnant of the Nautifelers Club have decided to have their excursion on the lake, and they will remain in the vicinity of the school. They don't know how to handle a schooner, and you may make sailors of them, Glovering. You may take two of the students with you, or three."

"Corny Minkfield, Nat Long, and Dick Short, if you please," suggested Thad.

The principal assented, and the party went on board of the La Motte. The schooner was put in order, and Dory suggested that her first trip be made to obtain the hatches which had been left on the beach at Camp-Meeting Point. The new skipper set his crew at work; and, as the wind had moderated to a lively breeze, she went off under a whole mainsail and jib.

The class of unskilled boatmen, as they all were except Ash Burton, were on board of the Goldwing. Dory shoved off the sloop; and when she had drifted some distance from the wharf, he let go the anchor.

"What in the world is that for, Dory? I thought we were going out on the lake to take a lesson in sailing," said Ben Sinker.

"So we are; but I thought we would begin at the beginning," replied Dory. "It is as necessary to know how to come to anchor as it is to do any thing else in sailing a boat."

"All you have to do is to throw it overboard when you want to stop," said Archie.

"Suppose you were coming into Beechwater with a lively breeze, such as we have to-day, how would you manage to anchor in the middle of it?" asked the skipper.

"When we got to the middle of the lake, I should drop the anchor," answered Archie.

"And a pretty mess you would make of it! If you were coming in under jib and mainsail, you would take in the jib some time before you reached the locality where you wished to anchor. Then, as you near the anchorage, you would come to, or throw her up into the wind, thus spilling the mainsail. When the boat had lost her headway, or most of it, you would let go the anchor. If you kept the sail drawing, you would drag the anchor, get aground, or run into some other craft."

"Suppose you are caught in a sudden squall?" asked Ash.

"You should not allow yourself to be caught in a sudden squall. A boatman should be always on the lookout for such things. Squalls don't come out of a blue sky; and when the weather is threatening, the skipper should get ready for it."

"But suppose the skipper was careless, and did get caught?" persisted Ash.

"In that case, he would not let go the anchor; for he could not well do any thing worse than that with his sails set. If the skipper can't haul down the jib, he should not anchor. But he could take in sail quicker than he could get the anchor to bite."

"Bite? Does the anchor bite? I shall be afraid of it," said Archie.

"It would not bite you; but an anchor is said to bite when it gets hold at the bottom of the lake. You don't anchor in a squall unless you have got the sails down. More of that farther on. I have told you how to come to anchor under ordinary circumstances. You must make your plan for doing so beforehand."

"I think I could anchor her," said Archie.

"It is not a dangerous operation. If the wind blows hard, you need a long rode, which means a long cable. In a blow, there is a heavy sea, and the motion of the boat causes a constant jerking on the anchor. With a short rode, it may lift it so that the flukes are detached from the bottom, especially if it be rocky. The longer the cable, the less the slant of the rope. In Lake Champlain, the water is four hundred feet deep in some places."

"Where, Dory?" asked Ash.

"In the middle of the lake, between Essex and Wing's Point; and it is nearly that off Split Rock Point. Fifty fathoms, or three hundred feet, would be a very long cable in these waters: but it would be useless anywhere out in the middle of the lake. It is almost three hundred feet deep within a stone's-throw of Thomson's Point. The moral of all this is, that you must know the bottom of the lake as well as the top when you want to anchor. As a general rule, you must run into some bay for the purpose."

"But a fellow may be caught out in the middle of the lake when the bad weather comes," suggested Ash.

"Then he must take his chances; but he need not be caught if he looks out in season. If it looks like bad weather, get under a lee if you can. Don't anchor off a lee-shore if it can be avoided. Look out in season. That will do for anchoring till we get caught in a tight place. Now we will get under way. Take the stops off the mainsail."

"What is a gasket, Dory?" asked Ash.

"Some boatmen call the stops a gasket. Properly, a gasket is the rope used to fasten the sail to the yard or boom when it is furled. Sometimes the gasket is made of strips of canvas sewed together, or ropes plaited into a flat shape. I want you all to have your stations, so that, when the order is given, it can be executed without calling any names. Archie Pinkler and Con Bunker may take the throat-halyards, and Syl Peckman and Hop Cabright the peak-halyards. These are your stations in hoisting or lowering the mainsail. Ben Sinker will stand by the main-sheet, overhaul it, and make it fast when told to do so. Ash Burton will take the wheel."

The students designated took their places; and the mainsail was hoisted, though the skipper was obliged to give a good many directions. Then he required them to lower the sail, and go through the routine again. The second time the work satisfied him, and it was done in half the time it required the first time.

"This is precisely the way they get a ship, or any larger vessel, under way," continued Dory. "The first thing is to set the principal sails, never including the head-sails."

"What are the head-sails?" asked Con.

"In a sloop, the term applies to the jib only. In a ship, it may include all the sails forward of the mainmast. In getting under way, the next thing to be done after the principal sails are set, is to heave up the anchor to a short stay; though we don't generally take the trouble to do this in small boats. It means simply to get the anchor nearly up, which is indicated by the cable being something near up and down."

"What's the use of doing that?" asked the critical Archie.

"Because it is generally necessary to work lively after most of the sails are set. After the sails are shaken out on board of a ship, they don't want to wait a long time to heave up the whole of the cable. Archie and Syl shall have their stations at the cable, and Con and Hop at the jib-halyards. Now, just to show how it is done, you may heave up the anchor to a short stay; that is, haul in on the cable till the bow of the boat is nearly over the anchor; but don't trip it."

"Trip it?" queried Archie, though the meaning of the term was clear enough to all of them.

"Just as you would trip a fellow up on shore; lift the mud-hook from the bottom," added Dory rather impatiently. "When you get the cable in the position required, Archie, it will be your duty to report the fact by saying, 'Cable up and down.'"

Archie and Syl hauled in on the cable? the latter pulling upon the rope, and the former coiling it up as it came in, as directed by the skipper.

"Cable up and down," reported Archie, prompted by Syl.

"Con is strong enough to hoist the jib alone; and Hop will overhaul the downhaul, and see that it runs out clear as the sail goes up. Then, as soon as the sail is well up, Hop will pass the halyard under the cleat, while Con swigs up; but not yet," continued the skipper.

The hands at the jib made every thing ready to hoist the sail.

"Now the two hands at the anchor will be ready to trip it. The moment it is clear of the bottom, Archie will say, 'Anchor a-weigh.' Then I shall give the order to hoist the jib. Are you all ready there?"

"All ready," replied Archie, who was getting up a deep interest in the operations.

"Trip the anchor," added Dory in a quiet tone.

"Anchor a-weigh!" shouted Archie.

"Hoist the jib," continued the skipper. "Keep on with your work at the anchor, Archie and Syl, and don't leave it till you have stowed it away in its place, and coiled up the cable, so that it will run out freely if we have occasion to anchor again in two minutes. On a boat, ropes should not be snarled up, but every one of them should be properly disposed for use at any moment."

The cable led through a block under the bowsprit. When it came home,--which is the nautical expression used when any thing is hauled up to the point where it belongs, or as far as can be,--an iron hook was thrown over one of the arms, and the anchor was hauled inboard by a line attached to it. This arrangement made it easy to weigh the anchor.

While the two hands were at the anchor, Con and Hop were hoisting the jib. Ash was directed to put the helm a-lee, and Ben to stand by the main-sheet. The moment the anchor was clear of the bottom, the jib began to fill, and the head of the boat swung off.

"Stand by the jib-sheets, Hop, while Con coils up the jib-halyards," said Dory, after they had "swigged up" the rope.

But the jib-sheets led aft, and Dory trimmed them down himself. It was a dead beat to windward to get out of Beechwater, and the two sails were close-hauled. In a moment every thing was in good order, the cable and the halyards had all been disposed of, as directed, and Ben had made a very nice coil of the spare part of the main-sheet on the floor of the standing-room. The crew were surprised to see with how little fuss the boat had got under way. Dory knew how, and every thing seemed to work to a charm for that reason.

"Now what tack are we on?" asked the skipper.

"On the starboard-tack," replied all of them in one breath, for they had profited by the instructions of Thad in the morning.

"Right. And the act of getting under way, as we did, is called 'casting on the starboard-tack,'" added Dory.

"Well, we couldn't cast on any other," suggested Hop, as they were all seated in the standing-room.

"It would have been just as easy to cast on the port-tack as on the starboard," replied the instructor.

"It seems to me that it is just as the wind happens to hit the sails on one side or the other," added Hop.

"There is no happen about it. I cast on the starboard because it gives us the longest tack in this pond. When any boat or vessel is at anchor, she points her nose directly into the wind. Then it is as easy to cast on one tack as the other."

"But after the mainsail is set, the boat keeps flopping one way and the other," said Con.

"If you make fast the main-sheet, it will. In that case, you are to take advantage of the right moment to trip the anchor and set the jib. It is sometimes necessary to sway off the boom to get her in position."

By this time the Goldwing was nearing the shore on the west side.

CHAPTER XXIX.

ALL OF DORY'S CLASS BECOME SKIPPERS.

"Ready about!" shouted Dory, with more vim than he usually put into his orders.

But there was nothing to do, for any one except Ash at the wheel; for the skipper had not stationed the crew for tacking. He had not had time to do so. The lower block of the main-sheet ran on a traveller, which is an iron rod set a couple of inches above the taffrail, or piece across the top of the stern. The ring under the block plays freely, or travels on it, from one side to the other. As the wind carries the sail and boom over, the sheet-block follows it. Of course, the sheet is trimmed so the boom may be at the right angle with the keel, on whichever tack the boat may be.

Dory explained the working of the sheet, and gave the names of the parts of the rigging used. He took hold of the jib-sheets himself, and gave the order to put the helm to port. As the sails began to shake, he cast off the lee-sheet, and passed over to the other side of the standing-room.

"Hard a-lee!" he continued, which meant that the helm was to be put down as far as it would go.

The Goldwing came about handsomely, as she always did under fair treatment: the boom went over to the starboard. The skipper then hauled in the port, which had become the lee, sheet, as the sail went over. The breeze was lively, and the boat worked quickly.

"Meet her, Ash," said Dory; and the helmsman threw the wheel over till he could feel the pressure of the water on the rudder as the sails filled.

"What do you mean by 'meet her'?" asked Archie.

"The helm was hard down when I gave that order," replied the skipper. "If it had remained in that position, it would have been hard up after the sails filled, and the sloop would have continued to swing around till she was before the wind; and it would take time to get her back to her proper course. As soon as the boat begins to catch the wind on the new tack, the helm must be shifted to meet her. When the boat was on the starboard-tack, all the pressure of the water was on the weather-side of the rudder, as the Goldwing carries a weather-helm. As soon as the boat begins to swing, this pressure is removed. There is none to speak of on either side. But as soon as she begins to fill on the port-tack, the pressure comes on that side."

"And you feel it the instant it begins to bear on the rudder," added Ash.

"You want the sails to fill on the new tack, and she should be met with the helm before she has fallen off much beyond her proper course. In a light wind, when the boat moves sluggishly, she may fall off somewhat before she feels the pressure on the rudder."

"She isn't on any thing, and I don't see how she can fall off," said Archie, the critic.

"Yes, she is on something: she is on the wind, and she falls off when she goes to leeward. As Ash says, he can feel the pressure as soon as the sails fill; and we sail a boat quite as much by the feeling as by the use of the eyes. Mr. Herschoff, who built the Sylph, is one of the best boatmen in the country, and he is totally blind. Of course, he has to work the boat entirely by the feeling; and those who have good eyes do it largely in the same way. Practice alone can give you this skill."

"Thad said the keel and the rudder balanced the sails, and kept up a sort of equilibrium," added Syl.

"That was quite right. When you see a fellow on a tight-rope in the circus, with a long pole in his hands, you may observe that he keeps lifting one end or the other. He throws the weight of the pole, the ends of which are loaded with lead, to one side or the other to preserve his balance. You shift the helm for the same reason. You can tell what the boat is doing with your eyes shut after you get used to her. When a flaw of wind comes, it throws a boat with a weather-helm up into the wind; and if you were blindfolded, the tiller or the wheel would tell you all about it."

"What do you do when the flaw comes?" asked Archie.

"Meet it with the helm if it is not too stiff for her."

"Suppose it is strong enough to capsize her if she keeps her course?" Hop inquired.

"Let her come up into the wind a little more than the course requires. If you let her up far enough, of course you will spill the sail, and the flaw can do her no harm. This is what sailors would call 'touching her up,' and that is just what we do when the wind comes too strong for the boat. You could keep her balanced, even in a hurricane, for a moment or two with the sails drawing just enough to give her steerage-way. Generally, flaws don't last more than a moment, and you fill away as soon as they pass. You may have to work sharp to keep her from filling on the other tack."

"A fellow has got to do it before he will know how," added Hop.

"Now, Con, I will station you at the port jib-sheet, and you, Hop, at the starboard," said the skipper.

"Why don't you say the weather and lee sheet?" asked Archie.

"Because they would have to change places every time we tack. The lee-sheet is sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other, as you may see for yourself," answered the skipper. "Ready about! That is simply the order for those who have any thing to do in tacking to be ready to do it; just as the military officer gives a warning 'Attention--company!' 'Shoulder--arms!' Not a soldier moves till the last word is uttered. Ready about!"

The two sheet-hands took hold of the ropes, and the helmsman was ready to move the wheel. At the command, "Starboard the helm," Ash put it down a little, and the head of the boat crawled gradually up into the wind.

"Hard a-lee!" said Dory. "Cast off all but one turn on the lee-sheet, Hop. Let go the lee-sheet!" added the skipper a moment later, when the jib shook in the wind. "Haul in on your port-sheet! Trim it down! Meet her with the helm!"

The change from one tack to the other was quickly made. The sloop worked to perfection, and the students had mastered the lesson in tacking. As they had to beat through a part of the narrow channel to the river, they had plenty of practice in a very short time.

"There is no need of all these orders after you have learned your duty. There is a sort of buncombe in using them in a small craft, or in any craft except a man-of-war. 'Ready about' should always be used. After that, on board of a ship, 'Let go and haul' is about all that is necessary, and it will do here. Let go the lee-sheet, and haul on the weather, supplies the ellipsis," said Dory, as the Goldwing came out into the river where she had more sea-room.

"I think I understand it now," added Archie.

"I think you do, all but the practice," replied the skipper. "I shall resign my office now as captain, and ask Ash to fill my place for a while. You may take the wheel, Ben Sinker; and I shall not say a word, unless you are likely to upset the boat."

Ben went to the wheel, and Ash assumed the position of skipper.

"Where shall we go?" asked the new captain.

"After you get out of the river, go up the lake, and that will be a dead beat to windward," answered Dory.

"The wind has almost died out," said Hop, as he looked about him.

"Not much!" replied Ash.

"When you are running in a boat before the wind, there seems to be little or no breeze," said Dory, who did not abandon his function as instructor. "When you ride in a carriage in a hot day, with the wind, you feel the heat. So in a boat. I have been nearly roasted on the lake in this boat when I was going before the wind, while it would be comfortably cool on the wind. The motion of the boat kills the breeze. Some boatmen make Hop's blunder, and put on more sail than they can bear; and then it is a dangerous error."

"Haul in on the main-sheet! A pull on the lee jib-sheet!" said Ash, when the Goldwing came to a bend in the river, which made it necessary to brace up the boat a little more.

After the change of course, the breeze came fresher; and Hop realized his mistake, by experience. The sloop went rapidly down the river with the wind about on the beam, or across the width of the boat, and out into the lake. The waves were lively there; and they were short and choppy, giving the boat a jerky motion.

"I suppose you know where the bottom is, out here, Ash," said Dory.

"I think I do; and it is pretty near the top of the water for a mile. I shall hold her on her present course till we have made about that distance from the mouth of the river."

"About half a mile from the point will cover it, but it is best to be on the safe side. When Diamond Island shuts in Split Rock Light, you are all right for any course except south," added Dory.

"I suppose nobody but Ash is expected to understand that remark," said Archie. "Shuts it in!"

"In other words, when you can see Split Rock Light over Diamond Island, you are far enough from the shore to avoid the shoals off Field's Bay," Dory explained.

"I can understand that," added Archie.

"If the light were not more than two feet above the water, we could not see it all when we come to the position described, for it would be shut in. I have about two hundred ranges written down in a book at home, and this is one of them. Sometimes they put two lighthouses on a shore. If one shut out the other, you could tell, in one case, how far north you had gone. When I am going into the river with the Sylph, I don't run in till I have brought the tip of the point in range with the white chimney on Paucett's house. The more of these ranges you learn, the better you will be qualified to sail a boat on Lake Champlain."

It was nearly dark when the Goldwing returned to the school; but every member of the class had taken his turn in sailing the boat, and each thought he knew as much as Dory about it.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE GOLDWING'S TRIP TO PLATTSBURG.

During the following week, Dory's class in the Goldwing made trips in the boat after the close of the labors in the shop. One of the members took charge of the sloop in each of these trips, and the lesson was still "Beating to windward." In this way, all of them learned how to work a boat to windward; and it was the most difficult lesson for them to learn, for it required a great deal of judgment.

One student would steer so close to the wind that the boat was cramped, and could not get ahead; while another let her get so far off the wind, that she failed to accomplish what she was competent to do. It required a great deal of practice to enable the different skippers to hit the golden mean. They did remarkably well, though not one of them became proficient at once.

On the return from the excursion, they had some experience in sailing before the wind, and in all directions between that and close-hauled. Matt Randolph was always out at the same time in the Lily, with his class. Although the latter was a schooner, the lesson was precisely the same. She carried a crew of twelve, and they were all stationed as in the Goldwing. The foresail was handled in the same manner as the mainsail. The only question that could come up on board of her, that did not have to be considered on the sloop, was whether or not, in a blow, the foresail should be set.

During the week, there was an examination of the five burglars, and all of them were fully committed for trial. The Plattsburg robberies were fastened upon them, and some of the money and other property found on board of the La Motte was restored to the owners. There was a great deal of difference of opinion in regard to the relative guilt of the robbers, for it did not appear that Sangfraw and Wickwood had any thing more than a criminal knowledge of the deeds of the other three. Besides, they were truly repentant, and told all they knew about the schemes of their companions, who denied all they could to the last.

At the trial, some weeks later, Spickles got seven years in the State Prison; the two who actually assisted him in his enterprises, received a sentence of five years; while the remaining two were let off with only one year. The chief of the Nautifelers Club, who was the author and finisher of all the schemes, both of pleasure and plunder, preserved his self-possession through the trial; but by the time he was shut up for seven long years, he began to wish that he had followed the course in life which Matt Randolph had marked out for himself.

Thad Glovering trained the party on board of the La Motte, in the management of the vessel; and at the end of a couple of weeks, they left Beech Hill, to undertake a cruise without his aid. They were very much pleased with what they saw of the institution; and they left the school much wiser, morally and intellectually, than when they came there.

On the following Saturday morning at daylight, Dory and his class were on board of the Goldwing for an entire day of sailing, and were going to Plattsburg. The sloop had been provisioned for the cruise; and the party were in a high state of enthusiasm, for it had been promised them a week before. Dory had rigged out the flying jib-boom, and put all the "kites" on board, so that the sloop could make the best of a light wind.

At four o'clock in the morning, when the party were ready to sail, there was scarcely a breath of air. Thad had taught them all there was to learn about a gaff-topsail, and they had worked the parts and methods over in their own minds. But when they came to apply their knowledge, they found that practice was quite different from theory.

"Bend on the gaff-topsail-halyards," said Dory, after the mainsail had been set.

This place had been assigned to Archie Pinkler; while Con Bunker was stationed at the tack, and Syl Peckman at the sheet. Dory had put all the running-rigging in place for handling the extra sails, but Archie did not know where to find the halyard. Both ends of this rope were made fast at the rail, on the port-side of the mast.

"You will always find the halyards there, Archie; and it is not necessary for you to learn about any other rigging connected with the gaff-topsail at present, though you can't help picking up all the other parts as they are brought into use. Now overhaul the halyards, and see that they are not foul, so that you can hoist the sail without any hitch."

The instructor would not allow any one to assist him; and he soon had the rope in running order, and bent it on the sail. When he had hauled the sail up so that the lower clews were just above the deck, Dory stopped him.

"Now, Con, bend on the tack," continued the skipper.

"We don't bend any thing: what's the use of having such a word?"

"That's my son Yoppa's name," added Hop, laughing.

"Bend is the nautical word for make fast, and that is the particular reason why I use it. Would you have me say, 'Tie the halyard to the sail'? Bend it on, Con."

"I don't know where to look for it."

"The end you bend on to the sail is on the port-side, and the end you haul upon is on the starboard-side. It is made fast abaft the cleat used for the halyard, and you never need make a mistake. When Archie hoists the sail to the mast-head, you will stand by the tack on the starboard-side, and haul the rope over the gaff. The sheet is made fast to a cleat on the main-boom, Syl; and, as the sail goes up, you will haul on it just enough to prevent the rope from fouling. Hoist away, Archie."

The setting of the sail was a decided success; and with less system, the whole affair might easily have been snarled up, as it often is.

The anchor was weighed, the jib was hoisted, and the Goldwing remained just where she had been at her moorings. There was no wind at all in the lower regions; but the gaff-topsail soon filled, and the boat began to move, though it could hardly be seen. Then Dory ordered the crew to set the jib-topsail. This sail was fitted with snap-hanks, by which it could be set upon the main-topmast-stay. Ash, as the best sailor in the party, was sent out on the bowsprit to hook on the hanks. The halyard, which led down the mast, was attached to it; and the sail went up into its place, with the upper clew close to the topmast-head.

The upper part of the jib-topsail filled, and the motion of the sloop was increased a little. Dory had a balloon-jib, which could also be used as a spinnaker, in the cuddy. The Goldwing slowly moved towards the creek; and, without the lofty sails she carried, she would not have moved at all.

"It is part of a boatman's trade to know something about the weather, for I don't think we shall have an up-and-down breeze much longer," said Dory, as he looked about him. "The wind is about west now, and it is very likely we shall have showers before night."

"Old Prob tells us all about the weather," added Ash.

"But you don't have Old Prob at your elbow all the time. Showers come up in the west more than from any other quarter, and the clouds will tell you what to expect. When a squall approaches, you can always see its action on the water before it reaches you, unless you happen to be under a weather-shore, which will shelter you to some extent. But you must look out for your boat before you see the squall on the water. The clouds will let you know that it is time to take in all kites."

In the river they got more wind, and the boat soon reached Lake Champlain. By that time, it was blowing moderately from the west. With her extra sails set, the Goldwing rushed rapidly through the water, with the breeze on the beam. It continued to freshen; and after the sloop had passed Split Rock Point, she had all she could carry. Ash Burton had the helm, and the boat heeled over so that the rail occasionally went under. It was exciting sailing.

"Now, I should like to know where the danger comes in," said Archie, as he saw a little spray slop in over the washboard.

"It don't come in at all if the boat is properly handled," replied Dory. "It would not be prudent to let her fall off a great deal."

"What would happen if she did fall off too much?" asked Con.

"Nothing at all, unless she were brought round far enough to place her keel in line with the direction of the wind. Then, with the sails trimmed as they are now, the boom would be likely to be carried over to the opposite tack. It would fill on the other tack with a shock, which might upset her. But even a blockhead would not let her do that."

"Suppose she did upset?" queried Ben Sinker.

"If she went over just here, she would go to the bottom in nearly four hundred feet of water. But she will not be allowed to play you such a trick as that. You might just as well drive your horse over a precipice as let the boat upset," said Dory confidently.

"The boat is now down to her washboard; and it would not take much of a flaw to put the board under, and fill the standing-room with water," added Archie.

"There comes a flaw; you can see it on the surface of the lake," replied the skipper. "Now see what Ash does."

The gust of wind struck the sails; the boat heeled over till the water came up to the top of the washboard; but, as Ash pulled the wheel towards him, the head of the boat went to windward, and the pressure was eased off. Dory asked the helmsman to put the helm a little farther down. Then the sails all began to shake, and the sloop instantly came up to an even keel.

"It looks easy enough," said Archie.

"It is easy enough, if you only mind what you are about. It takes some strength at the wheel to keep her from doing that, as she carries a weather-helm; so that you can't upset her in the way I explained, unless you mean to do so," continued Dory.

But Dory was a prudent skipper, and he ordered the jib-topsail to be taken in. Thus relieved, she went along swiftly and very comfortably. By nine o'clock they arrived at Plattsburg, and spent a couple of hours there. But they were more interested in sailing the boat than they were in wandering about the streets of the town, though they were much pleased with their visit to the beautiful garden of Fouquet's Hotel.

The return-trip was about the same thing till the Goldwing was in the widest part of the lake, off Burlington. Then the black clouds began to roll up in vast masses in the west, and the skipper said they looked like wind. The gaff-topsail was taken in, the flying-jib was furled. The lightning was terrific, and the thunder suggested earthquakes.

"We are in for it, sure," said Archie Pinkler; "and I don't like the looks of things about this time."

"We are all of six miles from the land; and the wind is dying out, as it often does before a tempest; and there is no backing out," said Dory. "We shall have to take whatever comes, and do the best we can. The greenhorn, on board of a ship, when a sudden storm came up, said he thought he would take a biscuit, turn in, and call it half a day. He was not allowed to do so, and you will not. Our safety requires that every fellow should do his duty, and there is no shirking it."

"But why don't you take in sail, Dory?" asked Archie nervously.

"Because there is no need of it yet, and we may not have to take in sail at all. Why don't you take medicine before you get sick? You need not be nervous, Archie. We are all right; and I feel as much at home on board of the Goldwing, as I should in my room at Beech Hill."

Suddenly what breeze there had been died out, and the sloop lay motionless on the water. Dory told the crew to take in the jib, and instructed those stationed at this sail to stow it and secure it with the utmost care, so that it should not be blown out by the squall.

"There is the Marian," said Ash, as he saw her coming out from Burlington.

"What does she come out for when there is going to be a squall?" asked Ben.

"Because she will be safer out in the lake than at a wharf there, though she might get behind the breakwater. She will do very well in a squall. All she has to do, is to keep out of the trough of the sea, if it comes on very hard," replied Dory. "At the very worst, in a hurricane, she would put her head up to the sea, and keep her engine going. She will be all right unless her engine breaks down."

The lake was as smooth as glass, and the boat lay "like a painted ship upon a painted ocean." The members of the class looked at each other, and some of them were doubtless afraid.

"Man the peak-halyards," said Dory quietly. "Keep perfectly cool, and there is no particular hurry."

Syl and Hop went to the station indicated, but they were told to do nothing till the order was given; though the sail might as well be furled as set, so far as any use of it was concerned.

"It is coming now," said Dory, as he pointed to the New-York shore. "You can see the clouds of dust it is stirring up on the land."

A moment later, it struck the water, and the commotion could be seen.

It looked like a dense light cloud sweeping over the surface, while a roaring sound came in advance of it. Dory gave the order to let go the peak-halyards, and take in the jib.

"Now we are all right," said the skipper, as soon as the order was executed. "Here it comes. Hold on to your hats, and keep down in the boat."

The cloud swept down upon the sloop, and the squall struck her. Dory took the wheel himself. The mainsail flapped and banged with tremendous violence; but the boat was headed right into it, and no harm came from it. The water did not pile itself up into big waves at first. Almost as soon as it had come, it was over. A few moments later, Dory filled away with the mainsail: the peak still dropped, just holding wind enough to give her steerage-way.

"Is that all there is of it?" asked Archie, when the shock was over.

"That's all; but it was only a light squall, and sometimes they hold one for a much longer time. But we have not got to the end of this thing yet, for there is another behind it."

The skipper let the boat fall off till she was headed for Juniper Island, about two miles distant. In less than ten minutes he had anchored her under its lee, with all sail safely stowed. As the skipper predicted, there was another squall, which continued to rage for full fifteen minutes. The waves mounted to a great height, and the spray dashed over the island. But the Goldwing was safely sheltered, and the students enjoyed the wild commotion of the water. Later in the day, the wind went around to the north-west; and the sloop, under a reefed mainsail only, made her way to Beech Hill.

These instructions were continued all summer in the two sail-boats; and long before the end of the season, even Archie Pinkler was allowed to go out as skipper of the Goldwing. All the members of the classes became competent boatmen; and then they were as much at home on the lake, whatever the weather, as Dory himself.

Tom Topover sailed the Lily, and knew all about his business. He had become a very respectable sort of fellow, as had also all his former companions in mischief and crime.

As usual at the close of the summer term, there was a grand occasion to wind up the work of the school-year. Mr. Plint, Mr. Bridges, and Mr. Rithie, who had kindly served as examiners in former years, rendered the same service at this time. Two of them had taken students into their employ; and in the speeches they made in the great hall of the boat-house, they explained what progress these students had made as architect and engineer.

Others from at home and abroad spoke of the moral as well as the industrial benefit of the institution. Without mentioning any names, an orator described the miracle which had been wrought in the life and character of such students as Tom Topover and Nim Splugger. The shops were visited; and in the afternoon, there was a grand excursion in the steamers and sail-boats, as the wind happened to be fresh.

The inevitable ball followed in the evening; and all the young ladies from the town, and not a few from Burlington, danced till the small hours of the morning. It was not a matter of toilets, and people declared that Dory Dornwood and Lily Bristol were the best-looking couple on the floor, though Oscar Chester and Marian Dornwood were hardly less attractive.

The Beech Hill Industrial School continued its good work for years longer. The principal selects such students as need the instruction and discipline, and are not likely to obtain their training at other institutions. He is a public benefactor; and the old students, who annually attend the closing exercises of the school, are grateful for what the institution has done for them.

Transcriber's Note

The original spelling and punctuation has been retained.

Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.

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Table of Contents

- READY ABOUT OR SAILING THE BOAT

- PREFACE.

- CONTENTS.

- CHAPTER I. MR. SPICKLES FROM THE METROPOLIS.

- CHAPTER II. THE NAUTIFELERS CLUB ON THE LAKE.

- CHAPTER III. A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION IN THE NIGHT.

- CHAPTER IV. THE SCENE OF OPERATIONS.

- CHAPTER V. ON THE TRACK OF THE BURGLARS.

- CHAPTER VI. A VICTIM OF STRATEGY.

- CHAPTER VII. THE EFFECTS OF THE EXPLOSION.

- CHAPTER VIII. SOME DIFFERENCES OF OPINION.

- CHAPTER IX. UNDER THE LEE OF GARDINER'S ISLAND.

- CHAPTER X. A BATTLE WITH THE ELEMENTS.

- CHAPTER XI. THE TURNING OF THE TABLES.

- CHAPTER XII. DORY DORNWOOD RESORTS TO STRATEGY.

- CHAPTER XIII. THE ARRIVAL OF MICHAEL ANGELO SPICKLES.

- CHAPTER XIV. THE RESULT OF DORY'S STRATEGY.

- CHAPTER XV. UNDER WAY, OR UNDER WEIGH.

- CHAPTER XVI. ON BOARD OF THE LA MOTTE.

- CHAPTER XVII. THE STANDING-RIGGING OF A SLOOP.

- CHAPTER XVIII. THE RUNNING-RIGGING OF A SLOOP.

- CHAPTER XIX. THE PLAN THAT WAS NOT SUCCESSFUL.

- CHAPTER XX. MORE MEMBERS OF THE NAUTIFELERS CLUB.

- CHAPTER XXI. THE GOLDWING ON THE STARBOARD TACK.

- CHAPTER XXII. SOMETHING ABOUT STEERING A SAIL-BOAT.

- CHAPTER XXIII. OPERATIONS IN THE HOLD OF THE LA MOTTE.

- CHAPTER XXIV. THE DEFENDERS OF THE PIRATE-SCHOONER.

- CHAPTER XXV. A SELFISH VIEW OF AN IMPORTANT QUESTION.

- CHAPTER XXVI. "SEE, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES!"

- CHAPTER XXVII. THE GUESTS OF THE INSTITUTION.

- CHAPTER XXVIII. STATIONS FOR GETTING UNDER WAY.

- CHAPTER XXIX. ALL OF DORY'S CLASS BECOME SKIPPERS.

- CHAPTER XXX. THE GOLDWING'S TRIP TO PLATTSBURG.

- Transcriber's Note

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE