Part 22 (2/2)
He waited till the breeze reached her, and then, with as little noise as possible, he weighed the anchor, and took his place at the helm.
”All right, Captain Duncan; you can finish your snooze at your leisure,”
muttered he, congratulating himself upon the fact that he had got off without waking Paul.
The wind freshened into a nice little breeze, and the Fawn, close-hauled rippled merrily through the water. Still Paul slept on, unconscious of the progress she was making, while John was jubilant over the success of his trick. He was obliged to tack so as to go to the windward of Rock Island, but he twice accomplished this manoeuvre without disturbing the sleeper.
The boat was now up with Rock Island, and John, who could never see why Paul always wanted to keep half a mile away from this dangerous reef, laid her course very near the rocks.
”All right, my boy,” said John, who had a bad habit of talking to himself when there was no one present to whom he could address his remarks; ”won't Captain Duncan be astonished when he comes out of the cabin?”
And Captain Duncan was astonished when he came out, for just as the rash first officer arrived to the conclusion that the boat had run clear of all the dangers of the navigation in that quarter,--
b.u.mp! went the Fawn on a hidden ledge.
”What are you about?” cried Paul, angrily, as he rushed out of the cabin.
”About got aground, I should say,” replied John, a good deal more astonished than he had calculated Paul would be.
”Let go your sheets! Take the boat hook, and let us push her off, if we can,” cried Paul.
Both the boys went to work, and after a few moments of hard labor, succeeded in pus.h.i.+ng the Fawn off the ledge upon which she had struck.
”I suppose this is a specimen of your management,” said Paul, as he hauled the sheets home, and seated himself at the helm.
”Rather bad management, I am willing to own,” replied John, who felt that his reputation as a skilful navigator had departed in the twinkling of an eye.
”Next time, when you undertake to sail the Fawn without me, don't you do it. You would be a pretty fellow to run the boat if I were away a week; there wouldn't be a board left on her ribs in three days.”
”It hasn't hurt her any, Paul.”
”I suppose it hasn't; but it would have been just the same if it had been blowing a ten-knot breeze.”
But John felt that, if it hadn't hurt the Fawn any, it had hurt himself a great deal; and he made a tremendous great resolution to be more careful in the future. The boat reached her mooring in good season, notwithstanding the detention.
CHAPTER XV.
PAUL GOES ON A CRUISE IN THE FLYAWAY.
”There has been a gentleman here to see you,” said Mrs. Duncan, when Paul went to the house.
”Who was he?”
”He left his name and residence on a piece of paper, and wants you to call and see him this evening,” replied Mrs. Duncan, handing him the address of the gentleman.
”Charles Morrison, Chestnut Street, third house from the depot,” said Paul, reading the paper. ”What does he want?”
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