Part 15 (2/2)

”There are the Bunkers on their raft,” said Tony Weston, pointing down the lake.

All eyes were turned in the direction indicated by the speaker.

”You can pull down by them, if you like,” added Uncle Ben.

”Give way!” said Frank.

The Zephyr darted down the lake, and in a few moments was within hail of the raft.

”Not a word to them,” said Uncle Ben.

”Can't we cheer them once?” asked Charles.

”Yes, if you can keep good-natur'd about it.”

”We can.”

The club boat shot by the raft, on which the wondering Bunkers stood like so many statues.

”Way enough!” said Frank. ”Now for three cheers.”

They were given; but the Bunkers were too much bewildered by the appearance of the gorgeous boat, with its silken flags and bright colors, its gilded name and its graceful shape, to heed the cheers of the club.

”Give way!” said Frank; and under the direction of Uncle Ben, he managed the helm so as to make the Zephyr describe a graceful semicircle round the raft.

”Five o'clock,” said the old sailor; ”we must go ash.o.r.e.”

Frank steered for the rock, and they came alongside in due form; Tony ”fended off” with the boat-hook when they reached it, and the club separated for the night, leaving the boat in charge of Uncle Ben.

CHAPTER IX

THE STOLEN WALLET

At school the next day, the club boat was the princ.i.p.al topic of conversation among the boys. Those who had been invited to join the club were regarded as especially fortunate. Frank Sedley was a distinguished personage, and even Tim Bunker unbent himself in some measure from his ferocious dignity in his attempts to conciliate him.

”I say, Frank, you will give me a sail in your boat, won't you?” said Tim.

”I should be very glad to accommodate you, but I don't think my father will let me take any boys who do not belong to the club.”

”Can't I join the club?”

”It is full now.”

”You can just make room for one more if you have a mind to.”

”There are only twelve oars.”

<script>