All Aboard or Life on the Lake Part 4

"Now, Tim, you can sign it," said Frank.

"It's pretty strict--ain't it?" added Tim, with one of his peculiar grins, as he took the pen that was handed to him. "You know I ain't used to being quite so strained up as you fellers, and I may kinder break through afore I know it."

"If you do, you shall be judged kindly and charitably," said Captain Sedley.

"Well. I'll sign it."

But it was not quite so easy a thing for Tim to sign; at least, to perform the mechanical part of the act, for he had been to school but little, and good penmans.h.i.+p was not one of his accomplishments. However, he succeeded in getting over the form, though it would have puzzled the secretary to read it, if he had not known what it was.

"Now, Zephyrs, Tim is one of us," said Frank.

"He hasn't got any uniform," suggested Charles.

"He shall have one," replied Captain Sedley, as he wrote an order on Mr.

Burlap, the tailor, to supply him with a uniform.

"All aboard!" shouted Frank. "We will pull up the lake, and see how the b.u.t.terfly gets along. They have been practising for a fortnight, and they ought to be able to row pretty well by this time."

"With Uncle Ben to show them how," added Fred Harper.

Again the Zephyrs were in their seats, and the boat was backed out into the lake. The flags were unrolled, and put in their places. The graceful barge was nicely trimmed, so as to rest exactly square in the water, and everything was ready for a sharp pull. The weather was cool, and the boys required some pretty vigorous exercise to keep them warm.

The various commands were given and executed with the usual precision, only that Tim, who was not thoroughly "broken in," made some blunders, though, considering his short service, his proficiency was decidedly creditable.

The Zephyr darted away like an arrow, and the slow, measured, musical stroke of the oars was pleasant and exciting to the rowers.

"You haven't told us about the other matter yet, Frank," said Charles, as the boat skimmed along over the little waves of the lake.

"Let us know about it," added Fred.

"About what?" asked Tim Bunker, whose modesty in his new position did not seem to cause him much trouble.

"We are to have a race with the b.u.t.terfly, when Tony gets things to his mind," replied Frank.

"That'll be fun! Are ye going to put up anything?"

"Put up anything?"

"Yes; what's going to be the stakes?"

"I don't know what you mean, Tim."

"When they race horses, each man bets on his own."

"We are not going to bet; that would be contrary to the const.i.tution."

"Would it? I didn't hear nothing about betting."

"Article second says that one of the objects of the a.s.sociation shall be the acquiring of good habits in general; and I am sure betting is a very bad habit."

"Well, I s'pose it is."

"But several gentlemen of Rippleton have subscribed fifty dollars as a prize to the winner of the race," added Frank; "just as they give medals in school, you know."

"Well, of course you will win."

"I don't know."

"You are used to your boat, and them fellers ain't."

"We can't tell yet; perhaps the b.u.t.terfly will prove to be a faster boat than the Zephyr, and some of Tony's members are a good deal larger and stouter than ours. I think the chances are about equal."

"I think likely. What are you going to do with the money if you win?"

"I don't know; we haven't thought of that yet," replied Frank, not particularly pleased with the question.

"Divide it among the fellers, I s'pose."

"I think not; we had better apply it to some useful purpose,--that is, if we win it,--such as enlarging our library, buying some philosophical instruments--"

"What's them?"

"An air pump, and other apparatus of the kind."

Tim did not comprehend the nature of the mystical implements any better than before; but as his mind was fixed upon something else, he did not demand further explanation.

"Fifty dollars," said he; "how much will that be apiece. Thirteen into fifty; can any of you fellers cipher that up in your heads?"

"Three and eleven thirteenths dollars each," said William Bright, who pulled the next oar forward of Tim. "Three dollars and eighty-five cents--isn't it?"

"Eighty-four and a fraction," replied Fred, with schoolboy accuracy.

"A feller could have a good time on that, I'll bet," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Tim.

"And many a poor man would like it to buy bread for his family," added Frank. "But there is the b.u.t.terfly!"

Tim Bunker dropped his oar at this announcement, and was on the point of rising to get a better view of the Zephyr's rival, when the handle of William Bright's oar gave him a smart rap in the back.

"Mind out!" said Tim. "Don't you know any better than to hit a feller in that way?"

"Cease--rowing!" called Frank, as he saw Tim's first involuntarily double up, and his eye flash with anger.

"It was your fault, Tim, and you must not blame him," added the c.o.xswain, mildly, but firmly.

"My fault!" and Tim added an expression which I cannot put upon my page.

"Such language as that is contrary to the const.i.tution," continued Frank. "You stopped rowing without orders."

"What if I did!"