"I guess I know what I am about; and if you don't dry up, Sam Spottwood, I'll bat you over the head. I am the captain of this ship, and I ain't goin' to have any feller stick his nose into my baked beans," returned the skipper angrily.
Sam was not a coward; but he had never measured his skill with Tom, and he did not care to quarrel in the boat. He went forward again, and he and Ash agreed to jump ashore as soon as they got a chance.
The boat was now fairly in the outlet of Beechwater. The course for a short distance was the same as before. The current could be felt as the lake narrowed into a stream of less than a twentieth part of its width, and the Goldwing increased her pace. The turn in the stream would bring the wind dead ahead in a moment. Tom Topover kept his eyes wide open; but he might as well have shut them tight, for he did not know where the channel was, and he could not have kept the boat in it if he had known.
It was necessary to change the course of the sloop to prevent her from running into the bank, and Tom shifted the helm to send her in the direction of the most water. The sail shook, and the boat began to swing about, as it was quite proper for her to do; but he met her with the helm too soon, not knowing any thing about his business, and the sloop lost her headway, so that she missed stays. The next moment she drifted into the shallow water, and was aground close to the bank, which was a little higher than the forecastle of the craft.
Ash Burton saw his opportunity at once, and without a word to any one he leaped upon the land. Sam Spottwood followed him without a moment's delay. The sail hung loosely from the gaff, and was slapping and banging in a manner that was trying to the nerves of the inexperienced skipper. The noise seemed to be an element of danger to him, though it was entirely harmless. He saw the two members of his crew leap ashore, and this step on their part contributed to complete his demoralization.
"What are you about, Ash Burton?" demanded Tom, as he saw his late companions seat themselves on the grass.
"About to quit that trip," replied Ash. "I have had enough of it if you are not going to the wharf as we agreed in the beginning."
"I am ready to go to the wharf, but the boat would not sail that way," the skipper explained.
"She would sail that way as well as the other; but you don't know how to handle her, and you have made a mess of the whole thing," continued the mutineer.
"Perhaps you think you can sail her up to the wharf?" added Tom, with a withering sneer.