"I guess I won't go, Tom," said he, as a momentary resolution supported the better impulse of his nature.
"Chicken-hearted! Are you afraid of your mother or of the wind and waves?" sneered Thomas, and his features curled up into an expression of contempt which moved the hesitating boy quite as much as his words.
"Of neither. If you think I'm afraid to go any where that you dare go, you are very much mistaken. It's a very easy thing for you to stand there and talk, but when the boat takes in a pint of water over the side, you jump as though an earthquake had taken you all aback," said Paul, smartly.
"Humph. Get into the boat, and we'll soon see who's afraid; though perhaps you had better go and get your mother to go with you."
"I have proved you to be a coward, and I don't think there is any use of going now. I don't like to be in a boat with a fellow who is skittish when the wind blows," continued Paul, who was determined to make the most of their previous experience. "It isn't safe to have a fellow jumping about in the boat when there's a heavy sea on. You might upset her, cantering about over the thwarts like a frightened colt."
"You are smart, Paul; but your big talk sounds silly while I stand here and stump you to carry me down to the Point. You are afraid of the sea, and afraid of your mother. You dare not go!"
"Jump in!" cried Paul, desperately, as his failing resolution fled before these taunts. "Jump in, Tom."
"Now don't back out if you happen to see one of your mother's aprons on the clothes-line."
"Never fear me; and if you don't wish yourself ashore before you get half way to Tenean Point, I lose my guess; that's all," answered Paul, as he pushed the boat off into deep water. "The wind is dead ahead, and we must beat all the way down."
"Put her through, Paul."