"We get along very well," replied Lawry.
"But it will wear you out in a month. Mother is afraid you will kill yourself, running the boat night and day."
"If you were captain I should have to be in the wheelhouse all the time, just the same."
"Well, I don't insist on it, Lawry," replied Ben, with becoming meekness. "I was only saying what would be best for all concerned."
"I will talk with Mr. Sherwood."
"Whatever you say, he will agree to. Now, give me the wheel, Lawry, and you go and see your passengers."
Ben took hold of the wheel, and the young pilot involuntarily released his grasp on the spokes. The older brother was certainly in a very amiable frame of mind, and it was perfectly proper to encourage him; but there was no more need of a mate than there was of another captain. Rounds, as the older of the two deck-hands, now performed the duties of that office. There was no freight to be received and discharged, which the mate superintends; and there was nothing for him to do but attend to the gangplank and the mooring lines, and see that the decks were washed down when required.
Lawry was not quite willing to leave the wheel in charge of his brother, for he was painfully conscious that he could not always be trusted. Ben was not often in so pliable a frame of mind, and the little captain could not help suspecting that he had some object in view which was not apparent, for he had twice declared, that if he was not captain of the Woodville no one should be. He was not prepared to believe that Ben would run the boat on the rocks, or set her on fire; but he deemed it prudent to keep his eye on him, and on the course of the steamer.
Ben steered very well, and Lawry left the wheel-house. At the door he met Mr. Sherwood, just as that gentleman had discovered who was at the helm.
"How's this, Lawry? Have you got more help?" asked his friend.