“It’s nothing to steer a boat! You needn’t make such a big thing of it.”
“Well, it is a big thing!” exclaimed Bolingbroke. “I thought I knew something about it yesterday, and I got overboard in two hundred and fifty feet of water; and that is deep enough to drown the whole of you. I should have finished my mortal career then if Dory had not picked me up.”
None of the other boys said any thing, though it was plain to the skipper that they did not want Oscar to steer the boat. Dory began to understand what sort of a fellow Oscar was; and it was evident to him that he was the bully of the crowd, and that he had already set up, and perhaps established, his superiority. He was older and larger than Dory, though three or four of the new pupils were heavier than he.
“You all seem to be afraid of a boat,” continued
Oscar with a palpable sneer. “I am not afraid of her.”
“Can you swim a mile?” asked Dory quietly.
“I can’t swim a rod. I don’t intend to tip her over.”
“Perhaps the rest of the fellows can swim.”
They all protested that they could not.
“If this boat should fill with water, she would go to the bottom like a pound of lead,” continued Dory. “The water is over two hundred feet deep out here. It is four hundred off Thompson’s Point. But, if you can’t swim, you would drown just as quick in six feet of water as in six hundred.”