"No, that is not all," replied Spickles, who seemed to be dissatisfied at the distance his former friend kept between them, and with his apparent desire to get off again. "The water is not more than two or three feet deep anywhere out beyond that point."
"To the southward of the point, the water is shoal; but it is deep enough north of it to float an ocean-steamer anywhere. As soon as you get to that bend in the river, and open up the point, run for it. Then--have you a compass on board?"
"Of course I have a compass: I brought a good one with me from New York," replied Spickles.
"When you are up with Beaver Point"--
"Where is that?" interposed the captain of the La Motte, who seemed to be intent upon detaining the coxswain as long as possible.
"The point at the mouth of the river. When you come up with it, make your course north-west by west, and you will be all right till you run on the shore on the other side of the lake."
"I say, Matt, I want to introduce you to the members of the Nautifelers Club; and I wish you would come on board," persisted Spickles.
"As I said before, I cannot, and you must excuse me. But what is the club?" asked Matt, whose curiosity was excited.
"The Nautifelers Club."
"Is that a Greek word?"