And he had reason enough to be alarmed. It was plain, from his management of his boat, that he was but an indifferent boatman; and probably he did not know what to do in the emergency. Dory had noticed the sloop coming up the lake with the steam-launch astern of her. The latter had run ahead of the sloop, and had come about, it now appeared, for the purpose of intercepting her.
When the skipper of the sloop realized the intention of the helmsman of the steamer, he put his helm to port; but he was too late. The sharp bow of the launch struck the frail craft amidships, and cut through her as though she had been made of card-board.
The sloop filled instantly; and, a moment later, the young man in her was struggling on the surface of the water. The boat was heavily ballasted, and she went down like a lump of lead. It was soon clear to Dory that the skipper could not swim, for he screamed as though the end of all things had come.
Very likely it would have been the end of all things to him, if Dory had not come about with the Goldwing, and stood over to the place where the young man was vainly beating the water with his feet and hands. With no great difficulty the skipper of the Goldwing, who was an aquatic bird of the first water, pulled in the victim of the catastrophe, in spite of the apparent efforts of the sufferer to prevent him from doing so.
It was a very warm day towards the end of August, and a bath in the cool waters of Lake Champlain was not the worst thing in the world to take. The victim of the collision was more scared than hurt; and he lay in the bottom of the yacht, puffing and blowing like a black bass just stolen from his native element. He did not seem to be able to speak, and Dory thought he was making a great fuss about a very small affair.
The Goldwing had been headed across the lake when her skipper picked up the victim; and, when he was safely on board, she continued on her course. Dory had come out to cool off and take a sail, and it made no difference to him where he went. The Beech-hill Industrial School had not
yet commenced operations, and he had nothing on earth to do the greater part of the time.
His father had died a few weeks before; but he had found a snug harbor at Beech Hill, where he resided with his mother and sister in the elegant mansion of his uncle, Captain Royal Gildrock. The captain had acquired an immense fortune by his operations in various parts of the world; but as his wife was dead, and he had no children, it had bothered him a good deal to determine what to do with all his money.
For many years there had been a feud between the head of the Dornwood family and the owner of Beech Hill. Mr. Dornwood was an intemperate man, and never more than half supported his family; though he had good wages as a pilot on the lake. He had married the captain’s only sister in spite of the opposition of all her friends, and especially of her brother.
When the captain attempted to assist his sister in taking care of her two children, her husband ordered him out of his house; for a great many sharp words had passed between them. The wife was afraid of her inebriate husband, and the attempts of the wealthy brother to help the family