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"How pretty your boat is!" exclaimed Mary, delighted with the appearance of the Zephyr.
"Very pretty indeed. Give way!"
"But won't it tip over?" cried Mary, as the boat darted out of the cove.
"Oh, no; there is not the least danger."
"And you guide it with those strings?" asked the wondering girl.
"Yes; they are fastened to that crosspiece, you see; and when I pull them, it moves the rudder."
"What is the rudder, Frank?"
"You can see only the upper end of it; but it is a flat piece of wood, which acts upon the water, and turns the boat," replied the obliging c.o.xswain, ill.u.s.trating his explanation by means of his hands.
"Oh, my! how swift it goes!"
"Not very fast now."
"Why, it goes like a racehorse."
The boys smiled at Mary's enthusiasm.
"Let her drive a little, Frank," suggested Fred Harper.
Frank commenced swaying his body back and forth, increasing in rapidity till the boys put forth their utmost exertion. Mary held on to the gunwale of the boat, as her speed augmented, and she seemed almost to fly through the water.
"Isn't it beautiful!" exclaimed Mary.
Frank was so intent upon the movements of the excited crew that he scarcely noticed they had nearly reached the north sh.o.r.e.
"Way enough!" said he.
"I should think they would be very tired," added Mary.
"Perhaps they are; we came over very quick; the distance is more than a mile."
"Twig the Bunkers!" said Charles.
The Zephyr was within a short distance of the landing in front of Joe Braman's house. The Thunderbolt had just put in there, and as they approached Joe and Tim were examining the nature of the damages the boat had sustained.
"What does he say, Tony?" asked Fred.
"He says he can easily fix it."
"Give way!" said Frank, giving the rowers slow time.
Steering the boat round by Joe Braman's landing, they saw Joe go into the house, and return with a hammer and some nails, with which he proceeded to nail a piece of board over the fracture in the side of the Thunderbolt.
"I can't fix it any better to-day; I'm going to Boston in the two-o'clock train."
"Will that hold?" asked Tim.
"Yes; she won't leak. Now just row me over to Rippleton."
"There is the villains of long faces," said Tim, pointing at the Zephyr. "Jump in, fellers, and just throw some of them stones into the boat. We'll give it to 'em yet."
"Joe's going to Boston," said Fred.
"So he says."
The Bunkers threw the stones into their boat, and then got in themselves. In imitation of the discipline of the Zephyr, the oars were first placed in a perpendicular position, and then dropped into the water.
"Pull," said Tim, steering directly towards the Zephyr.
"Most twelve," suggested Fred Harper, with a significant glance at Frank.
"Give way!" replied the latter, smiling.
"Want to race?" shouted Tim.
"With the greatest pleasure."
"Come alongside, then, and we will take a fair start."
"No, you don't!" said Frank in a low tone, apprehending an attack from his quarrelsome rival. "I will give you twenty rods the start,"
continued he aloud.
"You darssent come," sneered Tim.
Joe Braman was seen to speak to Tim, and instantly the Thunderbolt was headed towards the Zephyr.
"Pull with all your might!" cried Tim Bunker.
"Drive 'em into that 'ere cove, and then you can fix 'em," said Joe.
But Frank gave the cove a "wide berth." A very little exertion on the part of the club was sufficient to keep them out of the reach of the Bunkers, and they continued their course leisurely towards Centre Island.
Joe Braman saw that the chase was hopeless; and at his suggestion the Thunderbolt abandoned the pursuit, and steered towards Rippleton.
"Those are dreadful bad boys," said Mary Weston, when, to her intense relief, she saw them give up the chase.
"That they are; but our boat is so much swifter than theirs that we can easily keep out of their way."
"Do you suppose they really meant to stone you?"
"I have no doubt of it."