o
congratulate ourselves on our success, when Hall, who had for some time
been anxiously watching the shore, cried out--

"For goodness' sake pull hard, you fellows! we are drifting in fast.
Here, Charlie, take the helm, and keep her the way she is, while I get
down the sail. It's no use now. Mind your heads, but don't stop
rowing," he shouted to us, as he let down the sail suddenly, and lowered
the mast. "Keep her head out, Charlie, whatever you do. Let go that
rope beside you. That's right. Now take hold of that end of the mast
and slip it under the seat."

So saying he managed to get down the mast and stow it away without
impeding either the rowing or the steering, and immediately the
advantage of the step was manifest in the steadier motion of the boat,
although we groaned inwardly at the thought of having now all the
distance to row. At least I groaned inwardly. Hutton was hardly as
reserved.

"I tell you what," he said to me, stopping rowing, "I don't know what
you and the other fellows intend to do, but I can't row any more. I've
been at it an hour together."

"What are we to do, then?" inquired I.

"Why shouldn't Hall take a turn? He's been doing nothing."

"He's been steering," replied I, "and he's the only fellow who knows
how, and Charlie's not strong enough to row."

"Well, all I can say is, I don't mean to row any longer."

All this had been said in an undertone to me, but now Hall cried out--

"What are you shopping for, Hutton? Pull away, man, or we shall never
get out of this."

"Pull away yourself!" said Hutton sulkily. "I've had enough of it. You
brought us here, you'd better take us back!"

Hall's face at that moment was a study. I fancy if this had been a ship
and he the skipper, he would not have hesitated an instant how to deal
with this unexpected contingency. But now he did hesitate. It was
bitter enough punishment to him to be there exposed to all the dangers
of a sudden storm, with the safety, and perhaps the life, not only of
himself, but of us whom he had induced to accompany him, on his hands;
but to have one of those comrades turn against him in the moment of
peril was more than he had looked for.

"I'll take an oar," said Charlie, before there was time to say anything.

"No," said Hall, starting up; "take the helm, Charlie. And you," added
he, to Hutton, "give me your oar and get up into the bows."

The voice in which this was spoken, and the look of scorn