"She is the fastest boat of her inches on the lake," continued the skipper. "She has run by any of the big steamers, except the Vermont, which is good for eighteen miles an hour."
Dory had seen the steamer before, and he never saw her without having sad thoughts. He always kept away from her if she happened to be in any port where he was. But she was a beautiful craft, and her ordinary rate of sailing was twelve miles an hour; and it was said that she was good for two or three miles more if her owner would only "let her out."
"I don't think there is any comfort in her for you," chuckled Pearl. "She is a private yacht, belonging to Captain Gildrock; and he don't go out of his way to assist poor and distressed fellow-creatures like you."
"How far off is she, Dory?" asked the officer.
"She is half way across Cumberland Bay; and I should think she was four miles off, or thereabouts," answered Dory.
"Just about four: that was a good guess, Dory Dornwood," added the skipper.
"Can't you hail her if she comes near us?" suggested Peppers.
"No, he can't!" exclaimed Pearl sharply. "It would be cruel of you to ask him to do such a thing; for as sure as he makes a sign to that steamer, or to any other craft, I will throw him overboard, with his hands tied behind him."
"It would be cruel of you to do such a thing, Hawlinshed."
"I know it would, and I shall not do it unless you compel me to act in self-defence."