Get the water out, and we will see what can be done," answered Paul,
who, though he had already decided this important question, would not
permit his passenger to enter into his counsels, preferring to
tantalize him by his mysterious manner.

"Let us get ashore, Paul, as soon as possible."

"Going to back out?"

"No; what's the use of talking in that way, about backing out, when you
can't carry sail?" replied Thomas, whose pride was still unconquered,
though his courage was rapidly failing him.

"I shall rig a new sprit; there's the boat-hook, which will make a very
good one; it is just the right length."

"I'll give up then, and back out," said Thomas, despairing of any relief
from the misfortunes that had befallen the boat.

"Don't back out on my account; I will put you ashore at the Point, if
you say the word," replied Paul, satisfied now that he had kept his
promise and given his friend enough of it.

"Run for the shore, Paul."

"Just as you say;" and the boatman, proud of the triumph he had won over
his boastful companion, turned the boat's head towards the shore.

The corner of the sail hung down for the want of a sprit to support it,
but as they had the wind free, there was canvas enough to drive her
rapidly towards the shore. While they were still half a mile from the
cove, Thomas called Paul's attention to a horse and chaise on the beach,
from which a man was making violent gestures for them to come ashore.

CHAPTER III.

PAUL HEARS BAD NEWS.

"Who is it, Tom?" asked Paul, very anxiously.

"I don't know; can't make him out."

"What can he want with us?"

"Perhaps your mother has sent him after her runaway boy; but whoever he
is, I will tell him you are a fellow of the right spunk."

"Who can it be?"

"What matter who it is? Your mother won't whip you--will she?"

"No, of course not. My mother don't whip me."

"I thought she did, you seem so much afraid of her."

"I am not afraid of her."

"If you are, there is nothing else that can frighten you."

"I mind my mother because she is my mother; because I like to do so, and
not because I am afraid of her. You had better not say much more about
being afraid, Tom."

"Do you mean to say I was afraid?" said Thomas, smartly.

"If you wasn't afraid, you was confoundedly scared," replied Paul,
whose paradox was fully appreciated by his companion.

"Look here, Paul; are you going to tell the fellows that I was scared?"
demanded Thomas