I ran the Belle out into the lake, and then, at a single stretch, made the pier at the picnic grove, the point from which we had started before. I was afraid I should lose my mast, and I was not disposed to cripple the boat merely to see what she could do. Behind the pier we had tolerably smooth water, and I decided to put another reef in the mainsail.
“What are you going to do now, Wolf?” asked Waddie, his teeth chattering as he spoke.
“I’m going to put in one more reef, for I don’t like to risk my mast,” I replied.
“Are you going to try to run down in the teeth of this blow?” he inquired.
“I must get home myself, and get the boat home.”
“I thought you ran in here to wait for better weather.”
“No; only to put in another reef.”
“But I don’t know that I can quite stand this. I am not afraid of anything, but I am half-frozen.”
“I’ll warm you very soon, and you may go home as comfortably as though you were in the cabin of the Ucayga,” I replied. “We are in no particular hurry, but I don’t think we shall see any better weather to-day.”
I went into the cabin, and lighted the fire in the little stove, which was filled with kindling-wood, ready for the match. I rigged the little copper funnel on the forward deck, and in that wind the draft was so strong that the fire roared merrily in a few moments. Having secured the mainsail, I joined Waddie in the cabin, closing the doors behind me. In less than half an hour we had a temperature of at least ninety degrees, and both of us were thawed out. We took off our coats, and placed them near the stove. We were as warm as toast, and though I did not announce the fact, I believed that the Belle was a great institution.