“I’ll bet we will,” replied the half dozen particular cronies of Tommy who were in the boat with him.
“I don’t wish to do anything of that kind. I bear Waddie no ill will; and if he will only let me alone, I shall never have any trouble with him.”
“You are too easy with him. If you only licked him once, he would respect you for it.”
I could not help thinking what the consequences would be if any plebeian Middleporter took it into his head to “lick” Tommy Toppleton; and it was about the same on one side of the lake as the other. It was not prudent to thrash so much pride, conceit, and wealth, as were embodied in the person of either of the heirs of the great houses. The sons of poor men had to stand back, and take off their hats to the scion of either family. Fathers’ situations and mothers’ social positions depended much upon the deference paid by their children to the representatives of the nabobs.
“Where shall I land you, Wolf?” asked Tommy, as the sail-boat approached the wharf, near which the dummy reposed, ignominiously, on the bottom of the lake.
“Put me on board of the tow-boat, if you please. And you must get the captain to do what I tell him,” I replied.
“I’ll do that. He shall obey your orders just as though you were the owner of the steamer.”
We ran up to the tow-boat, which was about to start on a trip up the lake with a fleet of canal boats that had gathered together. I knew that she had on board all the rigging I needed for my bold experiment, including some very long tow-lines. Tommy ran up to the boat, and he and I leaped upon her deck, for I had assured him I needed no help from the boys, or any one else.
“Captain Underwood, we want to use your boat for a while,” said Tommy, as briskly as though he had himself been the owner of the craft.
“Does your father say so?” asked the captain, with some hesitation, and with the utmost deference.