"May I ask what you intend to do, sir?" I demanded, out of patience with him, in his unreasoning malice.
"You will take me to the shore."
"I will not," I replied, bluntly.
"You won't!"
"No, sir."
"We'll see," said he, rising to his feet.
"Better sit down, sir, or you will be overboard again," interposed Bob, as I drew the heavy tiller from its socket, intending to defend myself from assault.
The Splash lay with her sails shaking, and her position was a very uneasy one. Mr. Parasyte concluded to sit down, simply because he could not stand up, and I restored the tiller to the rudder.
"If you don't choose to get into that boat, Mr. Parasyte, I will land you at Cleaver Island," I added, as I filled away again, and headed the Splash towards the point indicated.
"Thornton, I want you to understand, that for all you have done you shall be brought to a strict account," said the principal, sternly, but vexed that he had failed to have his own way.