As a matter of course his light craft, propelled by the impetus which he gave her in jumping, swung off beyond our reach, and, much as I pitied the lad, it was impossible to prevent an exclamation of impatience because of his carelessness.
The boat was worth more dollars than I had ever been possessed of at one time, and to send her adrift thus recklessly was an extravagance such as I could not countenance.
“What are you about?” Alec asked, when I swung the boat around in order to come at the skiff.
“I am counting on picking up the bateau. There is no reason why she should be allowed to go adrift when we may as well tow her into Presque Isle. A craft like that won’t hold our boat back a half a mile in an hour.”
“You didn’t set out for the purpose of making a dollar,” Alec said, speaking more sharply than I had ever heard him. “We have no right to waste time, and that same I would say even though yonder skiff was worth ten times what she will fetch.”
Involuntarily I allowed our boat to swing around into the wind once more, surprised as well as pained by his tone, and until we were on our course again I gave no heed to the passenger who had so unceremoniously come aboard.
Alec, understanding that he had spoken roughly, said in a soothing tone, such as no lad, however angry, could withstand:—
“It was not in my mind to say aught to offend, Dicky; but knowing how important it is that we perform our mission, any delay, however slight, seems criminal.”
My anger fled on the instant, and after one regretful glance at the bateau now so far astern, I held out my hand to him in token that I bore no ill-will, after which, following the direction of his gaze, I looked at the stranger.
He was a slight, weakly lad, with eyes such as would cause one to trust in him; but a certain timid way that told he had been delicately reared—a lad toward whom one’s sympathy went out before he asked it.