"We have two fast boats, and can easily keep out of their way," replied
Tim. "If they want to fight we can beat them off."
Charles did not approve of fighting, and thought it would be bad policy. Tim was tolerably tractable now that he was having his own way, and was not very strenuous in support of his own pugnacious views. When their plans were fully digested they left the island to prepare the stakes. Before noon they separated, and the truant returned home about the usual time.
That afternoon he joined the Zephyrs in an excursion up the lake, and another lighthouse was erected in the vicinity of a dangerous reef.
"What shall we do next week?" asked Charles, as they were returning home.
"We are going up the river," replied Frank. "My father has consented to it."
"Has he? That will be first rate."
"And so has George Weston."
Charles relapsed into deep thought. He was thinking how much better he could enjoy himself with good boys than with such fellows as the Rovers; for, though he was "master of marine" among them, he could not help acknowledging to himself that they were not pleasant companions. They used profane and vulgar language; were always disposed to quarrel. Disputes which were settled peaceably in the clubs were decided by a fight among the Rovers; and the ambitious "master" had many misgivings as to his ability to control them. Tim could manage them very well; for, if one was turbulent, he struck him and knocked him down; and Charles had not the brute courage to do this.
"What are you thinking about, Charley?" asked Frank, pleasantly.
"Nothing," replied Charles, promptly, as he tried to laugh.