“I won’t do it.”
There was no time to lose. Ike suddenly leaped forward, and without a word of warning dealt the captain a blow over the head with a death club used for knocking big fish on the head. The captain rolled over to the bottom of the boat and Ike seized the helm and brought the craft around. He then asked one of the men to hold the helm while he hauled in the jib, and asked the others to reef the sail down to a pigeon wing. All hands obeyed and they were just in time, for a minute later the squall struck them and away flew the little yacht over the foaming waves.
Our hero had resumed the helm, and he held her steady to the wind.
The captain had sought to regain his feet, but the men held him down and bid him lie still, and away they sped over the waters.
It proved to be only a summer tempest, and in half an hour the blow was over, and under a steady breeze Ike put her about and made a run for the inlet.
But little had been said during the excitement. The captain was released and sullenly took his helm, when one of the party said:
“Cap, the boy saved our lives by his prompt action.”
“I’ll take care of the boy,” growled the captain.
“See here, cap, it’s all right. We will pay you for the rap you received.”
The men made up a purse of twenty dollars over and above the hire of the boat, and got the captain to agree to say nothing about it.