ut what his father says than he does about the
fifth wheel of a coach, and he always seems to have a first-rate time."

"Appearances are deceitful," replied Frank with a sage smile. "Do you
think we should enjoy ourselves up to our ankles in water on that
raft?"

"The water wouldn't hurt us."

"Not so much as the disobedience, it is true; but I don't care much
about such fun as that."

"Tim Bunker asked me to sail with him over to the island yesterday, and
I had a great mind to go. If it had been any other fellow, I would."

"Your father told you not to go on the lake."

"He never would have known it."

"Perhaps not; but you would not have felt any better on that account."

"For my part, I hate to be tied to my father's coat-tails or mother's
apron-string when there is any fun going on. I don't see why we
shouldn't have a good time once in a while, as well as the Bunkers, who
are no better than we are."

"I don't know how it is with you, but I can enjoy myself enough and
obey my parents at the same time."

"Right, Frank!" exclaimed Captain Sedley, who at this moment stepped
down from the grove adjoining the beach, where he had overheard a part
of the conversation. "So you think, Charles, that the boys who disobey
their parents enjoy themselves most."

"No, sir. I don't exactly mean that; but the Bunkers have some
first-rate times with this raft," replied Charles, very much confused
by the sudden appearance of Frank's father.

"But their lives are continually in danger," added Captain Sedley.

"Oh, sir, they can all swim."

"All of them?"

"Like ducks, sir."

"Suppose one of them should fall overboard half a mile from the land,
where I saw them yesterday. Do you think he could swim ashore?"

"Tim could."

"There are a great many things to be considered in such a case. His
clothes might encumber him; he might have the cramp; he might get
frightened."

"The others could save him."

"We do not know what they could do. Boys at play are very different
from boys in the hour of peril. When I was a sailor before the mast,
one of my shipmates, a very expert swimmer ordinarily, fell from the
mainyard arm into the sea. Two of us jumped in to assist him; but he
sank to the bottom like a lump of lead, and we never saw him again."

"That was strange," added Charles.

"He was taken unawares; he lost his self-command, and it might be so
with the Bunkers. This rafting is dangerous business, and I advise you