CHAPTER XVI. DORY DORNWOOD GIVES A LESSON IN BOAT-SAILING.
It was absolutely certain that Bissell was not a reckless and over-daring skipper, which is often the most glaring fault of those in charge of sailboats. He erred in the opposite extreme,—he was too timid. He had not pluck enough when it was blowing fresh to keep his sail full. The barges were overhauling her, because she had hardly any headway; and when she went in stays, she had not speed enough to meet the fierce waves.
Dory took the helm, while the skipper, with the bucket, dipper and sponge, soon removed the water from the well. The sail was permitted to fill, and the Silver Moon dashed on her course at a lively rate again. The barges pulling against a head sea could not keep within hail of her when she was on her long tack.
"I have about made up my mind that you can handle this sloop better than I can," said Bissell, when he had wiped out the well with the sponge.
Paul Bristol burst out into a loud laugh at this remark.
"What are you laughing at, Paul?" asked the skipper, looking rather severely at the spare hand.
"I was only thinking it had taken you a long time to make up your mind, Mr. Bissell," replied Paul, suppressing his risibles when he saw that Dory looked as serious as a judge.
"I suppose you think I am not much of a skipper, Paul," added Bissell, evidently annoyed by the laugh of the spare hand.
"I don't know much about sailing a boat, and I think I had better not say anything," answered Paul prudently.