in again."

Monkey had hoisted the jib, and it was flapping and pounding
furiously,--making a noise which was rather trying to the nerves of the
gentlemen. The skipper seized the lee sheet, and luffing up the boat,
flattened down the sail to its proper place, for he was obliged to run a
short distance to the northward in order to clear some vessels at
anchor. Having passed these, the sheets were started, and the Skylark
went off before the wind. The sea was not heavy so far in shore, but it
was exciting sailing, and the passengers kept silence, watching the
swift motion of the yacht. In a short time they were accustomed to the
situation, and began to talk, though in rather subdued tones at first.
They seemed to regard the skipper with a feeling of awe, and realized
that their lives were in his keeping. They knew little or nothing about
a boat, and did not feel quite at home with such lively sailing. The
confident manner of the young skipper, his perfect command of the
situation, his pleasant speech and laugh, reassured them. When the yacht
had passed North-east Point the course was changed to the north-east,
and the sheets hauled in, so that the Skylark had the wind a little
abaft the beam. This was her best point in sailing, and she soon
exhibited her best speed. She heeled over so that her scuppers often
went under. Bobtail kept her just far enough from the land to get the
full force of the wind, but not far enough to be shaken up by the waves,
which beat heavily on La Salle Island, east of them.

"This is lively--isn't it, Howe?" said one of the gentlemen.

"It is the smartest sailing I ever saw," replied Mr. Howe. "You seem to
know what you are about, Captain Bobtail."

"I think I do, sir," answered the skipper. "I have been in a boat ever
since I was born, and I can't remember the time when I couldn't sail
one."

"I would give a hundred dollar bill if I could sail a boat as well as
you can," said Mr. Jones.

"So would I," added Mr. Howe.

"I will tell you all I know about it for nothing," laughed the skipper.
"I don't pretend to know much, but somehow I always get along. Won't you
take the helm, sir, and try your hand at it?"

"No, not now; I should rather begin when it is not quite so lively,"
replied Mr. Jones.

"It is easy enough. She will almost steer herself. All you have to do is
to run for that point of land, about eight miles ahead."

"Eight miles--is it?" asked Mr. Howe, consulting his watch.