"Yes, if you can keep good-natur'd about it."
"We can."
The club boat shot by the raft, on which the wondering Bunkers stood like so many statues.
"Way enough!" said Frank. "Now for three cheers."
They were given; but the Bunkers were too much bewildered by the appearance of the gorgeous boat, with its silken flags and bright colors, its gilded name and its graceful shape, to heed the cheers of the club.
"Give way!" said Frank; and under the direction of Uncle Ben, he managed the helm so as to make the Zephyr describe a graceful semicircle round the raft.
"Five o'clock," said the old sailor; "we must go ashore."
Frank steered for the rock, and they came alongside in due form; Tony "fended off" with the boat-hook when they reached it, and the club separated for the night, leaving the boat in charge of Uncle Ben.
CHAPTER IX