"Of course not; I don't spend my mother's money for anything, without her orders to do so," replied Paul.
"What odds does it make?"
"It makes a good deal of odds to me, for I don't spend what don't belong to me. By the big wooden spoon! There comes the Sylph again, and without the gundalow in tow. She is going as though she were running a race too. It looks to me just as though Captain Dory Dornwood had gone crazy, and I shouldn't wonder if Captain Gildrock hauled him over the coals for it."
"Is the cap'n aboard?" inquired Tom.
"No; he went to Burlington this morning in the cars."
"Then he won't know nothin' about it."
"Some one will be sure to tell him; but the officers have to keep a log, and put down the speed every hour. I am afraid Dory will catch it, for that steamer is running fifteen knots an hour. They say she can do it, but the fellows are not allowed to do more than twelve."
"All right; but I guess we can watch her from the boat just as well as we can here," suggested the strategist, placing himself close behind his victim, and bracing up for the effort he was to make.
"If she comes near us, we can hail her, and find out what she is doing, for I should like to know," added Paul, as he stepped down to the beach, in the direction of the bow of the boat; but his eyes were fixed all the time on the steamer, which was certainly going like the Flying Dutchman.
"Jump in, Bristol Brick, and I will take the oars."