“Give us a shout, you fellows,” cried Gilmore. “Steady Dis!” he roared.
“Hooray!” came from the little crowd.
“Oh, what a lark!” shouted Macey, but Aunt Hannah uttered a shriek.
Vane’s thrust had not the slightest thing to do with the mishap, for the boat was already so crank that the leverage of Distin’s tall body, as he stood up, was quite enough to make it settle down on one side. As this disturbed his balance, he made a desperate effort to recover himself, placed a foot on the gunwale, and the next moment, in the midst of the cheering, took a header right away into the deep water, while the boat gradually continued its motion till it turned gently over, and floated bottom upwards, leaving Gilmore slowly swimming to the side, where he clung to the camp-shedding laughing, till it seemed as if he would lose his hold.
“Help! help!” cried Aunt Hannah.
“All right, ma’am,” said the miller, snatching the boat-hook from Vane.
“Mr Distin! Mr Distin,” shrieked Aunt Hannah.
The miller literally danced with delight.
“Up again directly, ma’am,” he said, “only a ducking, and the water’s beautifully clean. There he is,” he continued, as Distin’s head suddenly popped up with his wet black hair streaked over his forehead, and catching him deftly by the waistband of his trowsers with the boat-hook, the miller brought the panting youth to the gangway, and helped him out.
“You did that on purpose,” cried Distin, furiously; but the miller only laughed the more, and soon after the boat had been drawn to its moorings, and righted, it was chained up, so that it should do no more mischief, the miller said.