“’Cause he caught cold, and died of too much cough-syrup and remorse.”
“Boys,” said Mr. Lawrence, seriously, “you have risked your lives for a moment’s pleasure, and even yet we are in some peril. I do hope, I sincerely hope, that you will profit by this lesson.”
The boys turned pale. A second time they realized their danger, and they breathed a silent prayer of thankfulness for their deliverance.
“What were you doing to help yourselves?” Mr. Horner inquired.
“We were trying to steer the punt as well as we could,” Will answered.
“What?” cried the furrow-faced sailor in astonishment. “Steering? how? where? why? whew! where on earth were you steering to?”
“Well, we thought we’d keep it as straight as we could,” Will said, apologetically.
“Well,” gasped the sailor, not at all awed by the presence of Messrs. Lawrence and Horner, “that beats me! To think of a pack of noodles trying to save themselves by steering, when their craft is going the wrong way!”
To return to the punt. When Jim saw help approaching, he did not bale the punt so carefully; consequently, at the time of starting for home, there was considerable water in it. Fuller and fuller it became; not only did the water leak in through the cracks, but volumes of it poured in over the stern. When almost filled, the lumbering and water-soaked craft quivered a moment on the surface of the waters, then suddenly sank, snapped the rope by which it was tacked to the long-boat, and disappeared forever.
The practical man sighed meekly: the sailors grinned; the rescued heroes chuckled audibly.