ke,
off the mouth of a brook.

"By gracious!" exclaimed Charles Hardy; "we are in for it now."

"And the Bunkers are upon us," added Frank, very much perplexed by the
difficulties which suddenly surrounded them.

"What shall be done?" asked Tony.

"Let them come on," replied Fred. "We can't get rid of them now."

"I don't want to fight with them," added Frank.

The Thunderbolt was approaching them, not very rapidly, it was true;
but a few minutes would involve them in a quarrel, which Frank and a
large majority of the club were very anxious to avoid. Tim Bunker was
standing up in the stern-sheets of his boat, watching them with
malignant interest.

"Hurrah! they are aground!" cried Tim, as soon as he understood the
nature of the calamity which had befallen the Zephyr. "We have them
now; they can't run away, the cowardly long faces!"

"Come aft, some of you," said Frank, when he heard these threatening
words. "The water is deep enough under the stern. We have only run into
a mud-bank."

On the starboard side of the boat there was plenty of water, and if
they could move her back a rod they could easily escape.

The boys obeyed the order of the coxswain; but the Zephyr had been
forced so deeply into the mud that her bow still stuck fast.

"Half a dozen of you set your oars in the mud, and push!" continued
Frank, highly excited by the danger that menaced them.

But it was of no use, they could not start her.

"They are upon us," said Tony.

"What shall we do?" asked Frank, sadly perplexed.

"We must fight," said Fred.

"No; I am not willing to do that."

"Shall we sit here and let them pound us as much as they have a mind
to?" demanded Fred. "But you are coxswain, Frank; and I, for one, shall
do just what you say."

"So shall I!" said another.

"And I!"

And so they all said.

Frank was more and more embarrassed as the circumstances multiplied the
difficulties around him. He was charged with the direction of the whole
club, and the responsibility of his position rested heavily upon his
mind. He had been taught at the fireside of his pious home to avoid a
quarrel at almost any sacrifice; and he was painfully conscious that
the indiscreet words of Fred Harper had provoked the anger of the
Bunkers. Poor fellow! What could he do? He was not willing to order
them to fight, even in self-defence; and he knew that their foes would
whip them severely if they did not. The Thunderbolt was within a few
rods