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.

"The Thunderer had foundered."—Page 35.

ALL TAUT
OR
RIGGING 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 SERIES" "ALL ADRIFT"

"SNUG HARBOR" "SQUARE AND

COMPASSES" "STEM TO

STERN" ETC. ETC.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

BOSTON

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS

NEW YORK

CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM

1887

Copyright, 1886,

By WILLIAM T. ADAMS.

All rights reserved.

All Taut.

TO

My Young Friend,

FRED G. BERGER, Jr.,

OF GRAND RAPIDS, MICH.,

This Book

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.

PREFACE.

"All Taut" is the fifth volume of "The Boat-Builder Series," which will be finished in the next book. Nearly all the characters presented, and all who take prominent parts in the story, have been introduced in the preceding volumes. The principal of the Beech Hill Industrial School entertains some doubts in regard to the principle upon which he has been conducting the institution, and brings about a partial change in its character. He is a firm believer in the utility of the school as he has organized it; and, apart from its industrial mission, he believes it may accomplish another purpose that will render it still more valuable to the community in which he resides.

The founder of the school has demonstrated to his own satisfaction, to say the least, that the institution is a practicable cure for some of the evils of American society; and he adds to it the feature of making it partly reformatory. The subjects of his new experiment in this direction are the Topovers, who have been the bad characters of the story. He finds them more tractable than he had anticipated, and the story will show with what results he applied the naval discipline of the school to them.

In spite of the rather formidable reformatory plan of Captain Gildrock, the book contains about the same amount of incident and adventure as its predecessors in the series; but they are events which forward the action of the principal, and illustrate his method of reforming bad boys. The Lily is rigged, and makes a very good record as a fast sailer on the lake.

The principal, though the actual work to be done by the students is only to rig a fore-and-aft schooner, explains to them the different kinds of vessels, classed by their rig, and fully illustrates the system by which the spars, rigging, and sails of a ship are named, so that he makes quite an easy matter of it for the boys.

The next and last volume of the series will be devoted to the sailing of boats; though, as in the other books, the subject will be amplified so as to include nautical manœuvres of larger vessels.

Dorchester, Mass., May 31, 1886.

CONTENTS.

ALL TAUT;
OR,
RIGGING THE BOAT.

CHAPTER I.
TOM TOPOVER AND HIS RECRUITS.

"What's the use of rigging the boat, Tom Topover?" demanded Ash Burton, with no little disgust apparent in his tones and looks.

"How can you sail the boat if she isn't rigged, Ash?" retorted Tom, who had always been the leader of the "dangerous class" of boys in Genverres.

"We don't want to sail her; we can't sail her in this creek," replied Ash Burton, who seemed to be inclined to dispute the authority and reject the leadership of the Topover.

"What's the reason we can't?" asked Tom, suspending his labors upon an old stick which was to serve as a mast for the craft they were getting ready for service.

"Because there is no room up here to sail a boat. This creek is not more than ten feet wide, and the wind is blowing directly up stream. It is half a mile to Beechwater, as the fellows in the Industrial School call it. The current will carry us down with only a little steering."

"What are we going to do when we get to the little lake? We have nothing but a couple of pieces of boards for oars, and we can't do nothing rowing," argued Tom Topover.

"All we want to do in this tub is to get down to the grove, and then we shall be all right," added Ash Burton warmly.

"We are going to sail down," persisted Tom; not that he cared how the craft was propelled through the water, but because he always wanted his own way, and that his word should be law to his companions.

"You don't know how to sail her after you get her rigged," said Ash, with no little contempt in his tone.

"You do, and that's enough. When we get her into the water, your work will begin, and mine will end."

Ash Burton had recently moved to Genverres from Westport, where he had sailed in a boat a few times, and claimed to know something about the management of one. Half a dozen boys had gathered on the bank of the creek; and they were all the associates, more or less, of Tom Topover, Nim Splugger, Kidd Digfield, and boys of that stamp.

They had heard a great deal about the building of the Lily, the schooner which had been launched by the students of the Beech Hill Industrial School just before the end of the term. The people of the town had talked a great deal about it, and most of them were interested to see her rigged and sailing in the waters of the river and lake. It was well understood that the rigging of the boat was the first thing in order after the school was re-organized in the month of September.

The young ladies in Genverres, and others who had attended the launch, which had been one of the great occasions of the year, had talked with the students; and "rigging the boat" was still the subject of conversation among them. Of course the boys did more talking on this subject than all others. Tom Topover had seen the launch, and heard the subject of rigging the new craft discussed. He was inspired to do something of the same kind, and this explained his persistency in part.

It was the last week in August, and in two weeks the industrial school would be open again; but the students who went to their homes had not yet returned, and every thing was very quiet about the grounds and buildings. A few boys who had no homes, or had them in the immediate vicinity, spent a good deal of their time in the Sylph, the steam-yacht of the principal, Captain Gildrock.

Dory Dornwood had preferred to remain at home with his mother and sister, at the mansion of his uncle the captain. He made a call as often as it was decent for him to do so, at the cottage of Mr. Bristol on the bank of the creek. Miss Lily Bristol, the daughter of the engineer who lived there, was acknowledged everywhere to be a remarkably pretty girl, about Dory's own age.

Dory was a great character at the school, and he was now the captain of the Sylph when the institution was in session. He was by no means a fighting character, though he had been in some hard battles with students and others, and his prowess possibly had something to do with his popularity in school and out.

During the vacation, the Sylph was in service a great part of the time. As she went somewhere nearly every day except Sunday, Dory had frequent occasion to go to the cottage to give the engineer his orders for the next day. His message to the father was generally coupled with an invitation to Lily and her mother to join the party.

Besides, Lily had a brother who had won distinction among the students for certain battles he had fought with Major Billcord and his son Walk. Under Dory's direction, the students had moved the cottage in which the Bristols lived, from Sandy Point to its present location; and this event, in one way and another, had led to a very close intimacy between the young captain of the Sylph and Paul Bristol, Lily's brother.

Perhaps Dory wished to see his friend very often; at any rate, he went to the cottage about every day in the week. Some of the students, and even his sister Marian, were disposed to laugh at him for his frequent visits; but Dory never admitted, even to himself, that he went to see Lily. Being quite young, it is probable that he did not understand the matter very well, and was ignorant of what it was that attracted him to the cottage.

Tom Topover and his followers had been hearing all the talk in the town,—at school, at the taverns, and in the shops,—about the doings at the Industrial School. They had been inclined to imitate, in their own way, the operations of the students on the water. They had endeavored to get into various quarrels with them, sometimes for the simple fun of bothering and annoying them, and sometimes for the purpose of getting possession of their boats.

Twice they had stolen the long barges; and once, when they were assisted by the students of the Chesterfield Collegiate Institute, they had given the owners a great deal of trouble in recovering the property of the school. It is not strange that the frequent view of so many elegant boats on the river and lake inspired them to imitate their more fortunate neighbors in the sports of the water.

Tom and his companions believed that the students and their principal were especially mean and selfish, in keeping all these elegant boats exclusively for their own use. He had done his best in trying to be civil, and even polite, in making his request, for himself and his associates, for the use of some of the boats for an hour or two. He had always been refused; for they were not competent to manage such craft, in the first place, and the principal had no fancy for indulging bad boys.

Being unable to obtain the use even of the four-oar rowboats of the institution, though it was vacation, they had constructed a flat-bottomed affair, which they called a boat, but to which no one else would have had courtesy enough to apply the term. It had been constructed under the direction of Ash Burton, who was certainly a higher grade of boy than the original Topovers; but it may be doubted if his standard of morals was any more elevated. He had been well educated so far, and was now in the high school.

The Topovers were enterprising and daring; and this fact, rather than their coarse manners and disregard of the laws of God and man, had drawn him to them. With him in tone and manners were half a dozen other boys like him, who had joined the Topovers. The old leader had been in some bad scrapes, and the people were generally sorry that he had not been convicted for his assault upon Paul Bristol, on the other side of the lake. They believed, that, in their own State, he would have been sent to a correctional institution.

The addition of boys like Ash Burton and Sam Spottwood had greatly changed the character of the original band. Hearing some of their number speak good English, had led them to improve their own language. But morally, they probably dragged down the recruits quite as much as the latter elevated them. On the whole, however, the tone of the crowd was improved.

The thing they called a boat had been built, and launched with some of the show which had attended the advent of the Lily into her destined element. The next thing in order, according to Tom's idea, was to rig her. It would not be proper to make an excursion in her, if she would float with half a dozen of them in her,—which had yet to be demonstrated,—until she had been rigged. The leader and some of the others had brought such bits of line as they could lay their hands upon, not always with a strict regard to the rights of property.

Ash Burton and Sam Spottwood did not believe in this folly, and they were disposed to rebel against the chief of the Topovers. The old sheet which Tom had brought for a sail would be as useless as a steam-engine without a propeller, in going down Beech Creek.

"If you want to rig her, go ahead, Tom," said Ash, when he had exhausted his arguments against the plan. "Sam and I will wait until you do the job."

"But I don't know how," added Tom. "I never had any thing to do with sailboats."

"Let him have his own way, Ash," suggested Sam Spottwood, in a low voice. "Help him out, and we shall get off all the sooner."

The new boat was not only to be rigged that day, but she was to convey her builders down the stream to the lake. Tom had hacked out a boom and gaff, and had set up the crooked stick which was to serve as a mast. One of the boys had to devote himself all the time to the work of baling out the leaky craft, while another was punching cotton-wool into the gaping seams, and plastering them over with putty.

The mast-hole was so large that the spar would not stand up; and Ash rigged a pair of shrouds to support it in place. The sail had already been bent on the boom and gaff in a very unnautical manner, and a few minutes served to attach it to the mast. The master rigger on this occasion was not disposed to waste any time on the rigging; and the gaff was not made to hoist and lower, but was simply tied to the top of the mast. A piece of bed-cord was fastened to the boom, to serve as the main sheet, and the craft was ready for sea.

But the calker had not yet finished his labors, and Sam Spottwood assisted him. The cotton had but a light hold on the wood, in the wideness of the seams, but the putty kept it in place. In another half-hour, the workmen declared that the boat was tight, and would keep dry, even in a heavy sea, out in the great lake. Ash Burton had some doubts on this point, but he said nothing. If they all got overboard, it would be easy enough to get out of the creek, it was so narrow.

"Is every thing all right now?" asked Tom Topover, in a tone of authority, when the calker announced that his job was finished.

"Every thing is all right," replied Kidd Digfield, who had used the cotton and putty. "The boat is all ready."

Tom proceeded to take his place at the stern.

CHAPTER II.
THE VOYAGE OF THE THUNDERER.

"Who is to be the captain of this craft, Tom?" asked Ash Burton, when the leader of the gang had taken his place at the post of honor.

"I am, of course," replied Tom, opening his mouth from ear to ear in a grin which was intended to express his astonishment that any one should put such a question to him.

"All right," added Ash, with a nod of his head in addition to emphasize his consent; "we will all obey your orders."

"Of course you will. In a boat there can be only one head, and others must do as the captain says," continued the self-appointed skipper.

"You are exactly right there, Tom. On board of the Sylph a fellow is not allowed to say his soul is his own; and if he disobeys the orders of his superior officer, he is shut up in the dark, or something of that sort."

"That's the right way to do it," argued Tom. "If a fellow won't mind the captain, he ought to be shut up, and kept there till he is willing to mind."

"We shall all mind," said Ash; but some of his companions could not help noticing a sort of chuckle as he spoke.

As no one said any thing more on the subject, and all seemed to agree that he should be the captain, Tom proceeded to station his ship's company in the boat. He ordered Ash to take a place beside him in the stern. There was no more than room enough for the six boys, and certainly none for as many more who had taken part in the building of the boat, but were not present at the rigging of the craft.

The Thunderer—for that was the name Tom had given her in spite of the protest of Ash and Sam, who wanted to call her the Boxer, perhaps as a compliment to the leader of the party, but more probably because she was more like a box than a boat—had her bow on the sand at the bank of the creek. Tom directed Sam Spottwood, who was in the forward part of the boat, to shove her off.

The boy addressed had a piece of board in his hand, and he obeyed the order. The clumsy craft slid off the sandbank into the water. The six stout boys in her settled her down so, that Tom began to manifest some signs of timidity; but when she had reached her bearings she did very well, and rested like a log on the water. The hills and trees on each side sheltered the creek in this place from the breeze that was blowing, and the sail hung idly from the gaff.

The boat was provided with a rudder moved by a tiller thrust into a half-inch auger-hole. It was sufficient to move the rudder, and that was all that was expected of it. Tom thought that the boat was a decided success, as she had not yet spilled them out into the creek. The current of the stream was strong enough to set the craft in motion, and she began her maiden voyage down to the little lake.

But she did not pay proper allegiance to her helm, in spite of all the twisting and jerking that Tom bestowed upon the innocent tiller, which was not at all responsible for the erratic course of the Thunderer. She bunted on the sandbars, and even poked her blunt nose into the banks as if she were hunting for muskrats.

"There is some mistake about this boat," said Tom, when he had exhausted his strength and his patience in vain attempts to bring the craft to some definite course.

"What is it, Captain Topover?" asked Ash, winking slyly to Sam in the bow.

"That's more than I know, for every thing seems to be all right about her. The rudder moves when I shift the tiller, but she don't mind it no more than a naughty boy minds his mother," replied Tom, looking over the boat in his efforts to ascertain what the matter was.

Just at that moment, the obdurate Thunderer was whirled by an eddy in the current, and thrown against a log of wood projecting from the bank. She canted over, and Kidd Digfield sprang to his feet. It looked as though the boat were going to spill them all out, but she did not: on the contrary, she rebounded from the obstacle, and went whirling on her way down the stream.

"Sit down, Kidd Digfield!" shouted Tom imperatively. "You have been in a boat enough to know better than to stand up in that fashion. No fellow is to get on his feet, whatever happens."

The skipper had learned this from the discipline of the students, with some of whom he had conversed; and he had often been near enough to their boats to learn something of the way in which they managed them.

"That's right, Captain Topover," said Ash approvingly. "A fellow that stands up without orders in such a craft as this ought to be thrown overboard."

"No matter what happens, no fellow must get on his feet," repeated Tom sternly. "It won't do."

"Suppose the thing upsets or sinks, are we to keep our seats?" asked Kidd, more to bother his commanding officer than for any other reason.

"When it comes to that, it is another thing," replied Tom, with all the dignity he could manage to muster. "Obey the orders of your captain; and when he gets on his feet, it will be time enough for you to do so."

The Thunderer continued to wander and whirl in the current and the eddies, in spite of the best skill of the skipper to prevent it. Ash Burton knew very well what the matter was, but he did not think it proper for a simple sailor to give advice or instruction to the high and mighty captain. Tom was the captain, and it devolved upon him to manage the Thunderer as he thought best.

The boat whirled entirely around sometimes, rudder or no rudder; and Tom did not know what to make of it. He had never seen a boat act so before, and he was sure that none of the school navy behaved in such an unaccountable manner. The progress of the expedition was very slow; and the skipper declared that it would take all day to get to Beechwater at this rate, to say nothing of Lake Champlain, upon whose waves they desired to navigate the Thunderer.

"I say, Sam Spottwood, just use that board of yours a little, and keep the boat from twisting about like a ram's horn," said Tom, when he could devise no other expedient for keeping the boat in a direct course.

"What am I to do with it?" asked Sam, who had some idea of what had been passing in the mind of Ash.

"When you see her whirling about, just stick the board on the bottom, or against the bank, and push her round," added Tom.

Sam obeyed the order when the bow came near enough to the bank for him to touch it. But when he attempted to reach the bottom of the creek, the water was too deep for the length of his stick. The boat whirled again, and Tom reproved the hand forward for not preventing it.

"I can't touch bottom with this oar," replied Sam. "I can only use it when she runs into the bank."

The Thunderer was approaching the stone-quarries, and the creek was wider and deeper than where they had embarked. Tom could give no further orders to remedy the difficulty, and the craft continued to waltz on her course. When they had gone a short distance farther, a slight breeze from behind Beech Hill filled the sail. In that turn of the stream it happened to be fair, and the boat began to move more rapidly through the water.

There was no more trouble about the steering at that moment; for, as soon as she had steerage-way, there was something for the rudder to act against.

"That's the talk!" exclaimed Tom, when he saw the Thunderer behaving like a proper and obedient Thunderer. "She has got over that bad trick, and she steers like a lady now."

The craft reached the hill, and again she was left in a calm. Not a particle of breeze came to fill the sail, and she began to gyrate as she had done before. Tom was vexed; and he tried in vain to solve the mystery, while Ash chuckled at the ignorance and stupidity of the captain of the Thunderer.

Passing the Bristol cottage, which seemed to be closed up, they came into Beechwater. There was a little breeze on the lake, and the sail filled again. But the wind did not come from the same direction as before; and after the sheet—not the main sheet, but the bed-sheet doing duty as a mainsail—had filled once, it refused to fill again. It had been trimmed at random, and was not in position to profit by the light air that came to it.

Ash Burton laughed in his sleeve, and winked at Sam Spottwood. As the Thunderer had passed out of the current, or where the force of it was diffused through the whole breadth of the lake, she ceased to move at all, so far as her gallant skipper could discern.

"Are we going to stop for dinner here?" asked Ash, with another wink at Sam.

"That sail keeps flapping, and there is wind enough; but the boat don't seem to go at all," replied the perplexed commander of the Thunderer. "I wonder what's the matter with her?"

"The captain of the vessel ought to know what ails her," added Ash.

"Well, I don't know; and she won't move at all," added the skipper. "Do you know what ails her, Ash Burton?"

"I don't pretend to know any thing at all about it, and I only obey the captain's orders," answered Ash, winking again at his crony forward.

"If you want to tell me any thing about the matter, I am ready to hear you," continued the captain, nonplussed at the situation.

"I don't want to tell you a single word. I know my place better than to do such a thing. It would be nothing less than mutiny for me to presume to tell the commander of the vessel what to do."

"We will let up a little on that," added Tom, with a grin, which was his apology for receding from his position. "Can you tell me what the matter is?"

"I cannot, but I am ready to obey orders," replied Ash.

Tom Topover took hold of the main sheet,—not the bed-sheet this time, but the rope,—and pulled the boom towards him. He had done so in the process of his investigation, rather than to accomplish any movement. But the effect was the same as though he had done it on purpose.

The moment he hauled in the sail, the wind filled it, and the boat began to go ahead again. Tom was not a fool in all branches of human action, and he could not help seeing how he should keep the sail full. He made fast the sheet; and the boat continued to go ahead, till she was within a short distance of the Goldwing, Dory Dornwood's sloop-yacht.

"Run for the shore, Tom!" suddenly shouted Nim Splugger, who was seated in the middle of the craft.

"What's the matter with you, Nim?" demanded the skipper.

"The putty and cotton is coming out of the cracks, and the boat will be full of water in about two minutes," added Nim.

"That's so!" yelled Kidd. "The water is pouring in like a mill-stream, and we shall be in the lake in a couple of minutes."

The two minutes had not elapsed when the boat was half full, and she rolled over as gently as though she had been a log.

CHAPTER III.
A QUESTION DEBATED AND SETTLED.

The Thunderer had foundered; but not being provided with ballast she did not go to the bottom, as it is set down in poetry and prose that she should do when she fills with water. All the Topovers of the present party had been educated in the manly sports of the locality, and they could all swim. The disaster was not, therefore, a very appalling catastrophe. But they were not required to swim any great distance, and the useful art they had acquired was of more service in enabling them to retain their self-possession than for the purpose of reaching the shore.

The clumsy craft went out from under them, for it was no longer able to hold them up. As she rolled over, she filled with water to the gunwales, and emptied her living freight into the lake. But the event occurred not ten feet from the Goldwing's moorings; and while one half of the crew swam to the sloop, the other half clung to the wreck. Among the latter was Captain Topover, who possibly believed that the master should be the last to leave the ill-fated bark.

Those in the forward part of the Thunderer had gone to the yacht, as they were the nearest to it; while those in the stern did not "give up the ship,"—not just then, though they did so a few moments later when they discovered that the wreck was floating towards the outlet. Ash Burton was the first to take this step, and the other two immediately followed him. There was plenty of room on board of the Goldwing for a dozen, and the shipwrecked party were not crowded.

"That's the end of the Thunderer!" exclaimed Sam Spottwood, as he shook the water from his garments, and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. "It is lucky that she left us to shift for ourselves just here, instead of out in the middle of Lake Champlain."

"Can't we save her?" asked Tom Topover, who had been reduced by the disaster to the level of his companions.

"She isn't worth saving," replied Sam contemptuously. "She can never be made to stay on the top of the water, and I wouldn't give two cents for a boat that wants to burrow in the mud at the bottom."

"I don't think the Thunderer was a success," added Ash Burton, as he wrung out the sack coat he wore. "I shall not go into the shipbuilding business at present."

"But she was a good boat, and worked very well," insisted the late captain of the craft. "She sailed very well when she got the hang of it."

"Or when her skipper got the hang of it," suggested Ash.

Tom took no notice of this bit of sarcasm, and perhaps did not understand it. All the party proceeded to do what they could to get the burden of water out of their clothes. But it was a warm day in August, and they were not likely to suffer from their involuntary bath. The hot sun was rapidly restoring the garments to their former condition; and the rough crowd made light of the affair, for they were in the water half the time during the long vacation.

"We have lost our sail," said Sam Spottwood, who had no interest in the craft which was now half-way to the outlet of Beechwater.

"That's so, and we have lost all the work we put into that craft. However, I did not expect much of such a tub, and I am not much disappointed in the result of the first cruise. But here we are, and here we are likely to remain until some one from the school comes and takes us off."

"You will have to wait a long while if you expect to be taken off," added Sam; "for all the people belonging to the place went off this morning in the Sylph, and they won't be back till night."

"It isn't ten o'clock in the forenoon yet, and they will not be back till dark, for they take their suppers on board," said Ash Burton, shrugging his shoulders at the prospect. "We shall get no dinner, and no supper, and it looks like a starving time ahead."

"You can bet I don't stay here without any dinner and without any supper," interposed Tom Topover. "If I don't get my dinner to home to-day, it will be because I get it somewhere else."

"I don't see how you are going to manage it. Do you mean to swim ashore?" asked Ash.

"I could do that if I wanted to, and so could the rest on us; but there is a better way," replied Tom, with a significant grin.

"A better way? What is it?" asked Sam.

"We ain't in the water, be we?" asked the late captain, with an expressive look at his companions, as though he desired to take the measure of them for a new enterprise.

"We be not," answered Ash, who had taken the job of correcting the leader's English, and had succeeded to a considerable extent. "We are not in the water: on the contrary, we are on board of the able and swift-sailing Goldwing; and we should be driven from her like cows from the corn if there were any of the officers of the school at home."

"Just so, but they are not at home. Most likely they are up to Whitehall or some other place at that end of the lake. Do you think I am going to stay here all day without any dinner and supper, when we might just as well use this boat as leave her alone?" demanded Tom Topover earnestly.

"It will be the safest way to let her alone," replied Ash, shaking his head. "You came very near being doomed to look through the bars of a gridiron for the next three or six months, over on the other side of the lake; and it will be well for you to keep a sharp lookout to windward, Tom."

"That was because I licked Paul Bristol," added Tom, with a grin.

"Or because you got licked by him," suggested Ash. "According to all accounts, you got the worst of it."

"I can lick Paul Bristol or Dory Dornwood out of their boots, every time," bragged Tom, who was never able to remember his defeats in the past; and both of the worthies mentioned had been too much for him. "But that ain't any thing to do with us now."

"If you should take this boat, and sail her away from her moorings, what should you call the act?" asked Ash, pinning his leader down to a point.

"I should call it taking the boat."

"Captain Gildrock would call it stealing her; and the court on this side of the lake might send you to the house of correction, or some such place, for a year or two," continued Ash Burton, carrying the point to its issue.

"We didn't come out here to steal her," protested Tom. "The captain would say we had no right to come on board of her; but you was the first one to get on board of her."

"I don't think the principal would find any fault with us for coming on board of her, after we were wrecked in the Thunderer," answered Ash.

"Of course he couldn't. That's one thing. The next is, shall we leave in the boat, or stay on board of her? We might as well drown as starve to death," argued Tom.

The high-school boy scratched his head, for there seemed to be some force in the late captain's argument. He was opposed to going without his dinner and supper, and he did not believe that a man as reasonable as Captain Gildrock would ask such a sacrifice of him. It occurred to him, that the gardener of the estate, or some of the stable-men, might be at home, and might be called to their assistance, if they shouted persistently for help. He proposed this to Tom, but it was received with a sneer.

"The boats are locked up in the new boat-house, and the gardener don't keep the keys," replied Tom. "You might as well holler for the captain himself, at Whitehall, as to try to find any one on the place when he is away."

"It couldn't do any great harm if we should sail the Goldwing up to the wharf," said Ash, as much to himself as to his companions. He did not like the idea of taking the boat, for Captain Gildrock was a Tartar to deal with in such matters.

"Of course it won't!" exclaimed Tom. "We can't do any other way. We should be fools to stay here and starve to death, within a quarter of a mile of the land."

Tom had made up his mind some time before, and had looked the boat over to ascertain whether or not she was available. During the summer the Goldwing had been supplied with a horizontal wheel, and the tiller could not be locked up in the cabin. But even if it had been, the cabin-doors were not locked as usual, for the reason that one of the crew had dropped the key overboard, and another had not been fitted. Tom found that there was nothing to prevent his party from getting the sloop under way.

Ash Burton and Sam Spottwood had always been law-abiding young men, as most of the others on board were not. If the proposition had been made on shore, to go off and take the Goldwing for a sail, in the absence of the owner, they would not have consented to take part in such an affair. But they had been put on her deck almost in spite of themselves; they had saved themselves from possible drowning by getting on board of her, for they did not believe they could swim to the shore.

Tom Topover's argument had its influence upon them; and they finally consented to assist in taking the boat, for the purpose of reaching the shore. The moorings were cast off, and the mainsail hoisted rather by tacit consent than by actual agreement. Ash assisted in the work, or it might never have been done, for the want of knowledge how to do it on the part of the others.

"Who is to be captain of this craft?" asked Ash, when the matter came to his mind.

"I am, of course," replied Tom confidently.

"All right," added Ash, who had thought he might not feel confident to handle the sloop. "I will obey orders, and do just what you tell me."

Tom went to the wheel. He had not noticed it particularly before, and he had no more idea of its use than he had of handling a quadrant or a log-line.

"What's this thing? and where is the tiller?" asked Tom, as he gave the wheel a twirl.

Ash Burton, who was the only one who was competent to answer the question, made no reply. The boat had been got under way in the most unseamanlike manner, and she was now drifting towards the outlet. There was wind enough to make the sail bang about above the heads of the party, for it had not been trimmed to any course. Tom studied the working of the wheel for a time, for he had come to the conclusion that it was to be used instead of a tiller. He turned it as far as he could, one way, and then looked over the stern, to note the position of the rudder. Then he reversed the wheel, and looked again. He had solved the mystery, and partially got the hang of the thing.

The wind was west; and Tom pulled away at the main sheet, until, guided by his experience in the Thunderer, he filled the sail. The sloop started off at a speed that startled the skipper. She heeled over, and frightened some of the party, who were not used to the movements of a sailboat. By feeling his way, the skipper had brought the sloop on the starboard tack, headed for the outlet. The direction was not Tom's choice; but, trimmed as she was, she would not go any other way.

Ash Burton wanted to protest against being carried away from the wharf, but he would not interfere with the skipper.

CHAPTER IV.
A MUTINY, AND A NEW SKIPPER.

Ash Burton did not believe that Tom Topover could handle the Goldwing; and he was anxious to have him appeal to him for assistance, which, however, he had decided not to render while the present incumbent remained as captain. Tom was sailing the boat away from the wharf, and two of the party at least were strongly opposed to doing so. The wind was fair for the wharf, but Tom had not the most remote idea of the way to bring the sloop about. His nautical education had been confined to rowboats.

Ash walked forward to the forecastle, where Sam Spottwood had seated himself. He was fully resolved to give the skipper rope enough so that he could hang himself, and prove his own incompetency. There was hardly wind enough in Beechwater to upset the boat, and the emergency was to be something else that would call him to command.

"We are going away from the wharf," said Sam, when his friend seated himself by his side.

"Of course we are; I am not exactly blind. Tom don't know enough to bring the boat about, and that's what's the matter," replied Ash.

"I believe the fellow means to go off on the lake," added Sam.

"Not a bit of it! He couldn't get her down the river if he tried a week. No; he couldn't even get her through the outlet, for at the turn he will have the wind dead ahead," chuckled Ash.

Tom Topover at the helm looked as though he were supremely contented with his position. He had got the hang of the wheel so far as to be able to steer the sloop when there were no complications. By trial he found that when he pulled the spokes towards him, sitting on the weather side, it caused the bow to swing in the same direction. If he turned the wheel too much, it felt as though the boat would tip over. Turning it too much the other way, made the wind shake the sail as it was "spilled." This was the extent of the skipper's present skill in sailing a boat.

The Goldwing moved rapidly even in a light wind, and she was soon near the outlet. It looked as though Tom meant to go through, for he made no attempt to check the further progress of the sloop in this direction. Sam protested that he must not go any farther: the navigation of the outlet was difficult, and it required all Dory Dornwood's skill to carry her through with a west wind.

"Why don't you say something to him, Ash?" asked Sam, beginning to be anxious about the result of the venture.

"He is the skipper, and I don't want to interfere with him," replied Ash very decidedly.

"But he means to run away with the boat, and we don't agree to that," remonstrated Sam. "He don't know what to do, even if he don't intend to take a cruise on the lake; and you ought to tell him, for you are the only fellow on board that knows any thing about a sailboat. He will get us all into a scrape that we did not bargain for."

"I tell you he can't get through the outlet," replied Ash impatiently. "When he gets her aground, as you may be sure he will, all we have to do is to jump ashore and go home."

"We had no business to come down here in the boat, and I want to get out of the muddle before it gets any hotter," persisted Sam.

"You have a tongue in your head, and you know how to use it. Why don't you talk to Tom yourself?" inquired Ash.

"I don't know any thing more about a sailboat than I do about making turtle-soup," added Sam.

"That won't prevent you from telling Tom to come about and go to the wharf by the boat-house."

Sam Spottwood had not thought of this before. If he told the skipper to go back, he thought he must explain how it was to be done.

"This won't do, Tom Topover!" said he vigorously, as he walked aft through the standing-room. "We are going away from the wharf all the time, and we shall never get there at this rate."

"I suppose you don't know much about a boat, but you have to sail as the wind will let you," replied Tom in an airy manner, as though he comprehended the subject perfectly.

"I don't know any thing about a sailboat, but I think it is high time we were getting near the wharf," added Sam.

"I was just thinking so myself, and I will turn her about now," said Tom, as he cast his eyes about him like a prudent sailor before he changes the position of his vessel.

In this part of the lake the country was more open than farther up the creek, and the wind from the great lake came fresh over the lowlands at the mouth of Beaver River. As Sam spoke, the breeze freshened; and, as the boat happened to have a "good full," she heeled over till her gunwale was very near the surface of the water. This sudden jerk frightened all in the boat except Ash Burton; and the captain more than any one else, for he felt the responsibility of his position.

Tom Topover was bound to do something to counteract the pressure of the wind against the sail; and he put the helm hard up, instead of hard down as he should have done. He neglected to cast off the main sheet, which he had made fast to the cleat. The result was that the boat came as near going over as she could in that amount of wind. The skipper was so mixed up that he did not know what to do next, and he moved the wheel over the other way as soon as the boat had gybed. A moment later the Goldwing repeated the operation, for she was not used to being handled in this clumsy manner.

Tom whirled the wheel from one side to the other, for he did not know what he was about; and finally she was again headed into the outlet, with her sail drawing on the starboard tack. He could make her go as she had gone before, and that was all he could do.

Ash Burton was used to the movements of a boat, even when badly managed; and he was not at all alarmed, for they were close to the shore. He laughed at the struggles of the skipper to set things to rights.

"I thought you were going to the wharf," said Sam, as soon as he had recovered in some measure from his fright. "You are headed the wrong way."

"She won't go the other way," protested Tom.

"The wind is west, and it ought to take us the other way as well as this," Sam objected.

"But it won't take us that way," replied Tom sharply. "Haven't I just tried it?"

"But you don't know how to manage the boat," protested Sam, disgusted with the conduct of the captain.

"Who says I don't know how?" demanded Tom, who never admitted his inability to accomplish any thing he undertook to do.

"I say so, and you have proved it. I believe you mean to take us out on the lake."

"Well, what if I do? I don't believe the fellows will object to a trip on the lake in this boat," replied Tom, willing to take the clew the mutinous hand had given him.

"I object to it, and for one I won't go on any trip on the lake. You don't know how to manage the boat, and you will drown the whole of us."

"I guess I know what I am about; and if you don't dry up, Sam Spottwood, I'll bat you over the head. I am the captain of this ship, and I ain't goin' to have any feller stick his nose into my baked beans," returned the skipper angrily.

Sam was not a coward; but he had never measured his skill with Tom, and he did not care to quarrel in the boat. He went forward again, and he and Ash agreed to jump ashore as soon as they got a chance.

The boat was now fairly in the outlet of Beechwater. The course for a short distance was the same as before. The current could be felt as the lake narrowed into a stream of less than a twentieth part of its width, and the Goldwing increased her pace. The turn in the stream would bring the wind dead ahead in a moment. Tom Topover kept his eyes wide open; but he might as well have shut them tight, for he did not know where the channel was, and he could not have kept the boat in it if he had known.

It was necessary to change the course of the sloop to prevent her from running into the bank, and Tom shifted the helm to send her in the direction of the most water. The sail shook, and the boat began to swing about, as it was quite proper for her to do; but he met her with the helm too soon, not knowing any thing about his business, and the sloop lost her headway, so that she missed stays. The next moment she drifted into the shallow water, and was aground close to the bank, which was a little higher than the forecastle of the craft.

Ash Burton saw his opportunity at once, and without a word to any one he leaped upon the land. Sam Spottwood followed him without a moment's delay. The sail hung loosely from the gaff, and was slapping and banging in a manner that was trying to the nerves of the inexperienced skipper. The noise seemed to be an element of danger to him, though it was entirely harmless. He saw the two members of his crew leap ashore, and this step on their part contributed to complete his demoralization.

"What are you about, Ash Burton?" demanded Tom, as he saw his late companions seat themselves on the grass.

"About to quit that trip," replied Ash. "I have had enough of it if you are not going to the wharf as we agreed in the beginning."

"I am ready to go to the wharf, but the boat would not sail that way," the skipper explained.

"She would sail that way as well as the other; but you don't know how to handle her, and you have made a mess of the whole thing," continued the mutineer.

"Perhaps you think you can sail her up to the wharf?" added Tom, with a withering sneer.

"I know I could before she got aground."

"No, you couldn't! What's the use of talking? You couldn't do it, for no boat will go where the wind won't take 'em. I'll bet two cents against a leather cabbage you can't do it!" continued Tom, who seemed suddenly to have recovered his usual tone.

"Of course I can't now that the boat is aground, with her bottom buried in the mud."

"We can shove her out of this in two minutes, and then I will give you a chance to see what you can do," added Tom, who thought this was a good way of getting out of the scrape without confessing his own incompetency.

"All right; we will help you," replied Ash, who felt that he was gaining his point. "I will sail the boat to the wharf if you will make me captain, for I can't handle the sloop unless I have full power."

"All right; you shall be captain till we get to the wharf," replied Tom.

"Throw the painter ashore, and perhaps we can pull her off," continued Ash.

Sam and he manned the line; and while those on board pushed with the oars and boat-hook, they dragged the Goldwing into deep water, for only her bow was in the mud. Ash and Sam returned to the boat.

With an oar the new skipper swung the boat about, and filled the sail on the port tack. Greatly to the surprise of Tom, the Goldwing started off on her new course at a lively rate, and a moment later was in the lake, and headed for the wharf.

CHAPTER V.
A QUESTION OF AUTHORITY.

There was no difficulty in sailing the Goldwing up the lake, any more than there had been down the lake. Though Ash Burton had never steered with a wheel before, he had observed Tom Topover while he was at the helm, and he was soon familiar with its management. The late captain was greatly annoyed to see the sloop going along so well in the direction in which she would not go before; but Ash was too much delighted with his occupation to think of indulging in any triumphant expressions, and he said nothing. Like most boys who live near the water, he was ambitious to become a boatman, though his experience had been very limited.

"The wind is better now than it was when I had her," said Tom, after he had watched the motion of the sloop for a time. "She goes along very well now."

"The wind is exactly the same now as it was before," added Sam Spottwood, when he saw that the new skipper made no reply to this remark. "You can see the vane on Captain Gildrock's stable, and it points exactly to the west as it has all day."

"I don't care nothin' about the vane, I say the wind is better than it was when I was steering her," returned Tom rather sharply. "You could see for yourself that she wouldn't go this way when I had her."

"That was only because you did not know how to handle her, and Ash does," added Sam; and one of the original Topovers would hardly have ventured to make such a remark.

"If you say that again, I will bat you over the head, Sam Spottwood," retorted Tom, shaking his head.

"I have said it once, and that is enough," continued Sam, who had not yet been subdued by a thrashing.

"We are almost over to the wharf," interposed Ash, who wished to prevent a quarrel. "The only way to get to the grounds from the pier is through the boat-house, and the doors are all locked. I did not think of it before, but we can't land there."

"We don't want to land there or anywhere else yet a while," growled Tom, for the success of Ash in handling the sloop had reduced him to a very bad humor.

"You don't mean to use this boat any longer, do you?" asked the new skipper.

"If you can make her go, I can," answered the Topover sourly; "and I'm going to do it."

"We can land at the old wharf," continued Ash, as he looked about him without heeding the remark of the leader of the gang.

"We don't land at the old wharf or any other," added Tom. "I'm going to sail this boat for an hour or two before I go on shore."

"You can't sail her: you don't know any more about a boat than a goose!" exclaimed Sam imprudently, though he spoke the literal truth.

"Say that again, Sam Spottwood!" blustered Tom, doubling his right fist, and looking very savagely at the speaker.

"You are not deaf, and you heard what I said. It's no use for me to say it again," replied Sam.

"You dassent say it again!"

"We took this boat to get ashore in after we had been cast away, and I don't believe in using her any more than is necessary," said Sam, deeming it wise to change the subject.

"I don't let any fellow tell me that I can't handle a boat," replied Tom.

"I said it, and I shall not take it back, for it is true; and you proved it, Tom Topover," returned Sam boldly, for neither he nor Ash had ever submitted to the bullying of the bravo, though they had thus far escaped a fight.

But Tom had a feeling that either of them would fight, and he had always been obliging enough to stop short of a blow.

Ash Burton was delighted with the occupation of steering the boat, she worked so prettily; and he was sorry when she approached the landing. He had been on the point of proposing another turn around the lake, when his predecessor in office announced his determination to sail the boat himself. This put a new aspect upon the business of using a boat borrowed without leave. All his manly virtue came back to him, and he resolved not to remain any longer in the boat if Tom was to sail her.

By this time the Goldwing was not more than a hundred feet from the wharf, and it was time to decide what should be done. If he went to the wharf, the party would be no better off than on board of the sloop, for they could not get away from it without climbing over the boat-house. On the other hand, if the present skipper came about, Tom Topover would insist upon taking the helm. But the course of the yacht must be changed at once, or she would run into the wharf.

Ash Burton put the helm hard down at a venture, and without waiting to decide the main question. Things looked stormy ahead to him. The sloop promptly came up to the wind, and the boom went over in readiness for the other tack. It would not take more than a minute or two for the lively craft to reach the old wharf. Ash realized that he was still the captain, and by the consent of Tom. He headed for the landing-place he had chosen.

The wind was blowing squarely upon the old wharf, which made it very difficult for an inexperienced skipper to bring the boat alongside of it. The structure was low enough to allow the boom to swing out over it, and thus spill the sail as the craft came up to it; but the manœuvre requires skill, and the new skipper was not confident enough in his own powers to undertake it. He chose a safer way; and when he came up with the wharf, he threw the sloop up into the wind, intending to lower the sail and let her fall off till she came to the landing-place.

He called Sam Spottwood, and pointed out to him the halyards. Tom was busy about something else just then, and did not notice what the skipper was saying. At the right moment, Ash put the helm down, and when the sail began to shake, he shouted to Sam, who had returned to the forecastle.

"Let go!" was his order, and the hand addressed understood him.

The halyards were both cast off; and the sail came down, aided by Sam, with a rush.

"What are you about, Ash Burton?" demanded Tom Topover, as the canvas came down on his head, and filled him with consternation, for he thought something had broken. "What's the matter now?"

"Nothing at all," replied the skipper pleasantly. "Stand by with the boat-hook, Sam."

"What do you want with a boat-hook?" asked Tom, who had been studying the situation with a view to sailing the boat himself again.

"Fend off, Sam," added the captain. "We don't want to strike the wharf too hard: it might injure the boat."

"We don't want to strike it at all!" blustered Tom, springing to his feet, and taking in the new order of things at a glance. "Is the sail broke, that made it come down?"

"Nothing is the matter with it, so far as I know," replied Ash.

"What made it come down, then?"

"Because I ordered Sam to let go the halyards, and he did as I told him."

"You told him to let down the sail?" demanded Tom.

"Of course I did: if I hadn't, the boat might have been smashed against the wharf," Ash explained.

"What did you come near the wharf for?" growled Tom.