Suddenly tiring of the sport, Jack let out the mainsail, and the boat glided swiftly before the wind. Approaching a small island tangled with bushes and vines, Penny noted that the water was growing shallow. She called Jack’s attention to the muddy bottom beneath them.
“Oh, it’s deep enough through here,” the boy responded carelessly. “I make the passage every day.”
“What island are we passing?”
“Hat. The water always is shoal here. Just sit tight and quit scowling at me.”
“I didn’t know I was,” Penny said, sinking back into the cushions.
The Spindrift gently grazed bottom. Dismayed, Penny straightened up, peering over the side. The boat was running hard into a mud bank.
“About! Bring her about, Jack!” she cried before she considered how he might take the uninvited advice.
“The water is deep enough here,” Jack answered stubbornly. “It’s only a tiny shoal. We’ll sail through it easily.”
Penny said nothing more, though her lips drew into a tight line.
Jack held to his course. For a moment it appeared that the boat would glide over the shoal into deeper water. Then the next instant they were hard aground. The sail began to flap.