CHAPTER XIV. THE PURSUIT IN THE GOLDWING.
It was easier to decide that something should be done than it was to determine what to do. Mr. Jepson suggested the Sylph, but it would take some time to get up steam, and Dory thought she would not be the most convenient craft in a conflict with the barges. He was decidedly in favor of pursuing the marauders in the Goldwing.
In the smashing breeze on the lake she would sail nearly as fast as the steamer, and he could have her under way in five minutes. The schooner could follow the boats into shoal water, while the Sylph must have eight or nine feet, and if Tom Topover was smart, she might not be able to go within a mile of the barges.
"I am more afraid the rascals will smash the boats than that we shall not get them again," said Matt Randolph. "They are reckless fellows, and will run them on the rocks or shoals."
"We must look out for that," replied Dory. "If they go out on the lake they are more likely to swamp them than they are to smash them. But we are losing time, and I should like to catch the villains before they are out of the river, for I think they won't hurry after they get out of sight of Beech Hill."
"Goldwing it is!" exclaimed Luke Bennington.
"So say we all of us!" shouted the others, beginning to be somewhat excited at the prospect of a lively time with the Topovers.
"Dory shall command the expedition," added Thad Glovering.
"Matt is a better skipper than I am," modestly added Dory.
"No, I am not," protested Matt. "And Dory is better acquainted with the Goldwing than I am, and he shall conduct the affair."
"But you can't all go in the Goldwing," interposed Mr. Jepson. "There are eighteen of you, and you will be so crowded that you will knock one another overboard."
"Although the schooner will carry eighteen well enough, we can do nothing on board with so many, and nine or ten are all we need," added Dory.
"But there are fourteen of the ruffians," suggested Thad Glovering. "They are used to fighting, and we want as many fellows as they have."
"I don't believe there will be much fighting," replied Dory, laughing; "but if there should be, we can do better with ten than we can with twice that number. With eighteen we should be in one another's way."
"Ten only will go," said Mr. Jepson decidedly.
"But who shall they be?" demanded Luke Bennington. "Every fellow wants to go and have a hand in the fun."
"There is where the difficulty comes in," added Matt. "I think Dory had better select his own crew; and for one, if I am elected to stay at home, I won't complain."
"You know very well that you will be elected to go, Matt," said Will Orwell.
"I don't like to select a crew; I wish all could go, and I shall be satisfied with any nine," interposed Dory.
"Under these circumstances the best thing a fellow can do is to volunteer to stay behind; and I volunteer not to go," said Oscar Chester. "I should like to go as well as the next one, and I don't want any fellow to think I am chickenish."
"We know you are not, Oscar," added Dave Windsor; and all the students began to clap their hands at the self-sacrifice of the first volunteer.
Bolingbroke Millweed followed Oscar's example; then came Matt Randolph and Luke Bennington. It was the unselfish and brave thing to volunteer to stay at home, and no one was willing to stay behind in doing a good deed. In a moment more the whole seventeen had volunteered to remain at Beech Hill.
"I don't like to be alone, and I will join the crowd," exclaimed Dory, greatly amused at the situation. "We are just as badly off as we were in the beginning, and the Topovers are pulling down the river all the time. I will tell you how to settle the matter so that it shall be fair for all."
"All right, Dory: propel!" exclaimed Dave Winslow.
"Matt Randolph is the coxswain of the Gildrock, and he must go anyhow. For the other eight you must draw lots. Mr. Jepson will attend to the matter, and Matt and I will get the Goldwing ready," said Dory, beginning to be impatient at the delay.
All of them clapped their hands in token of their approval of the plan. The master machinist took out his pencil and wrote the numbers from one to sixteen on the back of a letter. Around eight of them, taken at random, he drew a square. Calling Miss Millweed from the schoolroom, he gave the paper to her.
"Now, Luke, select a number less than seventeen," continued Mr. Jepson.
"Forty-two," said Luke, laughing.
"I shall have to turn you over to Mr. Darlingby for further instruction in arithmetic," replied Mr. Jepson.
"Twelve," shouted Luke.
"Is that number enclosed in a square, Miss Millweed?" asked the machinist.
"It is not," replied the lady clerk.
"Then you are blackballed, Luke," added Mr. Jepson.
"Of course I am; I knew I should be."
"But with the eight who are elected not to go we will go down the river in the two four-oar boats; and we may be able to assist in the capture of the barges," said the machinist.
All hands applauded this announcement, and the lot proceeded. Oscar Chester, the first to volunteer to remain behind, was one of the first who selected a squared number. This result was heartily applauded. From being the worst bully in the crowd he had come to be a very gentlemanly and unselfish fellow. The discipline of Captain Gildrock had done wonders for him.
By the time the last of Dory's crew had been drawn, the schooner was under way, and standing in towards the wharf. The eight who had been "blackballed," as the machinist called it, were directed to man the two four-oar boats, and put the others on board of the yacht.
"Now we are all right, and under way at last," said Matt Randolph.
"But the Topovers have a start of all of an hour ahead of us, and if they have been using their oars they must be well out in the lake by this time," added Dory.
"I don't believe they will go a great way out into the lake," replied Matt. "There must be a smart sea at the mouth of the river, for the wind is a good deal heavier than it was yesterday."
"The rest of the fellows are coming down the river in the four-oar boats," said Oscar. "I suppose they are going to help us, and we ought to make short work of this affair."
"Are you going to lay them aboard, Dory?" asked Matt, who was rather inclined to quiz his fellow coxswain.
"I haven't the least idea how we shall manage the business," replied the skipper of the Goldwing.
"But you ought to have a plan," suggested the New York boatman.
"How can you make a plan before you know what the Topovers intend to do, and before you ascertain the situation of the boats?" asked the skipper. "It's no use to try to cross the river before you get to it."
"Of course not; but do you mean to board the barges and fight it out, or to manœuvre them out of the game as you did the Chesterfields?" continued Matt, rather disappointed to find that Dory did not lean upon him as much as he desired and expected.
"I am ready to do either or both, as the circumstances happen to favor," replied the skipper. "If you will take the tiller, Matt, I will go forward and 'clear ship for action.'"
The schooner was going at great speed, with the wind on the beam, and the outlet was very narrow. Dory went forward, and proceeded to arrange certain rigging on the forward deck. He did not explain what he was doing, but he worked as though he had some idea of his possible action in the encounter with the Topovers.
While he was busy with the lines, the centreboard of the Goldwing suddenly flew up, and a moment later the bottom of the yacht was scraping on the sand. Dory suspended his work, and looked up.
"Here we are!" he exclaimed, as he looked around him, and then at the helmsman.
"I thought there was water enough here for her," said Matt, greatly chagrined to find that he had run the schooner aground when they were in such a hurry.
"So there is if you only keep in it," replied Dory laughing, for he did not wish to hurt the feelings of his fellow coxswain. "I have done that same thing myself, Matt, and I did it as handsomely as you have done it."
"We have to haul her up into the wind here, and I was afraid she would go ashore on the other side," pleaded Matt. "But here we are with the centreboard up in the air, and the planks rasping the sand on the bottom."
The disaster occurred at the bend in the outlet, which Dory called the "V point." The current, which was quite strong at high water, deposited a great deal of sand at the apex of the point, while its force made a clear channel near the shore on the other side. When the wind was northwest it was necessary to hug the point as closely as possible.
The two oars and the boathook were at once brought into use, but it was impossible to move the hull in this way. Dory sent a couple of the crew ashore in the tender with a line, which they made fast to a tree near the deep water. The anchor was taken on deck, and the other end of the line passed through the block on the bowsprit. All on board manned this line, and the bow was hauled off almost in the twinkling of an eye. Matt insisted that Dory should take the helm, when the tender had returned with the line.
It was not an easy thing to get under way again in that bad place and Matt was very much mortified at the mishap. The skipper said all he could to comfort him, and gave him the helm again as soon as the schooner was in Beaver River. He arranged his lines as he had before, and by the time he had done this the Goldwing was approaching the mouth of the river. But a bend prevented them from seeing out into the lake.
"There they are!" shouted Dory at the heel of the bowsprit, where he could get the first view of the white-capped waves. "They are doing the very thing I was afraid they would do."
"What's that, Dory?" asked Matt, starting the sheets as the course of the yacht was changed.
"They are standing across the lake, and in a short time, if they make any headway, they will be in smooth water," replied the skipper.
Matt did not ask any questions, and possibly he suspected that Dory was his superior in the management of a boat. If he did, it was only because he was mortified at the accident at V Point. The Goldwing went out into the lake, and began to dance on the billows. The two barges appeared to be doing very well, in spite of the inefficient crew at the oars. Both of them were pitching smartly, and were not taking in water except in the form of spray.
In a few minutes the Goldwing was within hailing distance of the barges. Dory declined to take the helm when Matt suggested, and was again busy with his lines on the forward deck.