I turned out the reef, and Waddie still devoted himself to his meditations. The Belle filled away again, and in the shelter of the shore went along quite easily. The change in the motion of the boat seemed to attract the attention of my passenger, and he opened the slide, to see what was going on.
“The wind has gone down, hasn’t it, Wolf?” said he.
“No; the sea is just as heavy out in the middle of the lake as ever. We are under the lee of the shore now.”
“You seem to be quite comfortable. I think I will come out, for I want to talk with you.”
“It is pretty dry now. You will find some more old coats under the port berth.”
Waddie presently came out of the cabin, enveloped in an old overcoat which my father had worn out. He appeared to have something on his mind, of which he was anxious to discharge himself. He took a seat by my side; but, though the Belle was going along tolerably well for such a day, he did not speak for some time. Aware of his impulsive nature, I rather expected to be appointed engineer or captain of the Ucayga; for, as I have said before, he was the president of the steamboat company, though his movements were more effectually controlled than his rival on the other side of the lake.
“Wolf, I know you don’t like me very well,” said he, at last, and with something like a troubled look on his face.
“Well, I can’t say that your conduct toward me has been such as to make me love you very much. I won’t be a hypocrite, Waddie,” I replied.
“But what made you interfere when those fellows were abusing me?” he asked, looking me full in the face. “If you don’t like me, why did you risk a broken head to save me? That’s what I want to know.”
“I don’t know that I can explain my conduct very well,” I answered, laughing. “I have always tried to think kindly of those who wanted to injure me. I thought that those fellows were doing an abominably mean and wicked thing, and that it was my duty to interfere. That’s really all I know about it.”