"Way enough! Never mind it now; we are a quarter of a mile from them, and we can easily keep out of their way."
"Frank, we are running too near the shore," interposed Tony. "The water is shoal here, you know."
"Stern all! Give way!" exclaimed the coxswain. "I was watching the Bunkers so closely that I did not mind where we were going."
But it was too late. The Zephyr had not lost her headway, and darted forward, burying her keel in the mud-bank at the bottom of the lake, off the mouth of a brook.
"By gracious!" exclaimed Charles Hardy; "we are in for it now."
"And the Bunkers are upon us," added Frank, very much perplexed by the difficulties which suddenly surrounded them.
"What shall be done?" asked Tony.
"Let them come on," replied Fred. "We can't get rid of them now."
"I don't want to fight with them," added Frank.
The Thunderbolt was approaching them, not very rapidly, it was true; but a few minutes would involve them in a quarrel, which Frank and a large majority of the club were very anxious to avoid. Tim Bunker was standing up in the stern-sheets of his boat, watching them with malignant interest.