Part 30 (2/2)
”Are you going to run her on the island?” said Paul, astonished at the rude answer he had received.
”I don't know as it is any more your business than mine where I run her.”
”What is the matter, Frank? What ails you? What makes you so ill-natured? I hope I haven't done anything to give you reason for any ill feeling.”
”He wants us to go to Portland,” said one of the crew.
”I thought you had got enough of cruising on your own hook,” added Paul, with a smile.
”I'm not going back to be snubbed by old Gordon; and the rest of the fellows wouldn't, if they had any s.p.u.n.k at all. Come, Tom, let's keep her away for Portland.”
”I will not,” replied Tom, decidedly; ”at least, I will not unless Paul thinks we had better go there.”
”I do not think so,” interposed Paul. ”You have done wrong, and all of you had better get in the right path as soon as possible.”
”I am willing,” said Tom.
”So am I,” replied half a dozen others.
”The fact is, fellows,” continued Tom, very earnestly, ”I have had a lesson which will last me as long as I live. This is the meanest sc.r.a.pe I was ever concerned in, and when I get out of it I will try to do better. You needn't grin, Frank Thompson; I am ashamed of what I have done, and I confess that I am heartily sorry for it. I did more thinking last night than I ever did in seven years before.”
”Humph!” sneered Frank.
”I don't care what you say, Frank; if it is in my power to reform my life, I mean to do it.”
Tom continued his remarks in quite an eloquent strain, declaring that, in the perils of the stormy night through which they had pa.s.sed, he had thought of all the wrong he had ever done, and resolved to be a better boy. Above all things, he said, he had learned the necessity of obedience; and that because he had refused to obey Captain Gordon, he had been glad to obey the orders of Paul Duncan, a boy like himself.
”That schooner is bearing down upon us,” said Samuel Nason, pointing to a vessel over the weather quarter.
The stranger was evidently a fisherman, and had now approached within hail of the Flyaway. In a few moments more she had come near enough to enable the boys to distinguish the persons of those on board of her.
”Captain Littleton!” exclaimed Tom, who was the first to recognize him.
”Ease off the jib sheet!” shouted Frank, as he cast off the main sheet himself, and put the helm up, so as to carry the yacht away from the schooner.
”What are you doing?” demanded Paul.
”Do you think I am going to throw myself into the hands of Captain Littleton and old Gordon? I'll bet I ain't,” replied Frank.
”What are you going to do?” asked Tom.
”Get out of his way, of course; the Flyaway can outsail that craft, and we may as well have our cruise out as be snubbed by any of 'em. Ease off that jib sheet, I say. Come, Tom, show your s.p.u.n.k.”
”I will, but in a little different way from what you want,” said Tom, seizing the helm, and attempting to restore the yacht to her former course.
”No, you don't,” growled Frank, dealing him a heavy blow, which Tom promptly returned; and then commenced a struggle between them for the possession of the tiller.
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