"Safe as a house!" Will answered, decidedly. "You needn't be afraid; I'm an old hand with a boat."
After some hesitation Vic consented, and even determined that she had better sail the boat herself, as she was more used to the rigging.
"All right," Will gallantly said. "If anything happens I can swim enough for both of us."
The water was so much rougher than it looked from shore that Will began to feel uneasy about having a girl at the helm. They were a mile from the house, bobbing up and down on the waves like a cork in a mill-race, when Vic said they had gone far enough, and put the tiller suddenly hard down.
"Look out! Ease her up!" Will shouted; but it was too late. The sharpie went over like a flash, and they were both thrown into the water.
Vic went down instantly, and then came up with her arms waving wildly.
"Help! help!" she cried, and the next instant she disappeared again.
Will was holding on to the slender foremast, but he let go and sprang toward his cousin. When she came up again he seized her.
"Now do as I tell you, or we'll both drown," he said, as calmly as he could. "Don't grab me, but put one hand on my back and let yourself float."
She did as he told her, and he struck out toward the boat, and soon righted it, for Will was an excellent swimmer. Vic seemed limp as a rag, but he put her hands on the gunwale, and told her to hold on there while he baled out the water, and then he climbed in and helped Vic in over the stern.