He darted behind the wheel as Miss Evans, who was getting impatient, made a thrust at him, and then, springing out, gained the side and rushed up the rigging after his captain. Biddle, who was standing close by, gazed earnestly at them and took the wheel.
“You won’t hurt old Biddle, I know,” he said, trying to speak confidently.
“Of course not,” said Miss Evans emphatically.
“Tar don’t hurt,” explained Miss Williams.
“It’s good for you,” said the third lady positively. “One—two———”
“It’s no good,” said the mate as Ephraim came suddenly into the rigging; “you’ll have to give in.
“I’m—— if I will,” said the infuriated skipper.
Then an idea occurred to him, and puckering his face shrewdly he began to descend.
“All right,” he said shortly, as Miss Evans advanced to receive him. “I’ll go back.”
He took the wheel; the schooner came round before the wind, and the willing crew, letting the sheets go, hauled them in again on the port side.