The position of the boat was a favorable one for observing the conformation of the country, and Mrs. Sedley improved the opportunity to point out the various divisions of the land.

Half-way between Centre Island and the north sh.o.r.e was another island; and after coasting along by the banks of the lake, applying names to miniature sounds, bays, gulfs, and seas, the Zephyr arrived at its southerly side.

"Here is a channel," said Frank; "a pa.s.sage of water wider than a strait."

"Fred's turn; we must call it Harper Channel," replied Tony.

"And the island?--we are out of names," continued Frank.

"We will call it Mary's Island, after Mary Weston."

"Agreed!" cried a dozen boys at once.

"I thank you for the compliment," said Mary, blushing.

The excursion was continued, the boys rowing leisurely, and pausing frequently to listen to the music of the band, and discuss the geographical formation of the lake and its sh.o.r.es. They pa.s.sed entirely round the lake, and had given so many names to the various divisions of land and water, that it seemed improbable they could ever remember them.

As they came round to the boat-house, Mrs. Sedley was landed, and the club rowed up to Weston Bay, to leave the widow and her daughter. Both the pa.s.sengers were delighted with their excursion, and were profuse of their thanks to Frank and his companions for their kindness and consideration.

"What shall we do now?" said Charles, as they pushed off.

"Hadn't we better give up for to-day?" suggested Frank.

"Let us go down to Rippleton for your father," added Fred.

"I will do that," answered Frank; and the Zephyr dashed away towards the village.

They had scarcely pa.s.sed the boat-house before they discovered the Thunderbolt, directly ahead of them. Uncle Ben had landed the band at Rippleton, and had housed the Sylph, so that the Bunkers would no longer be restrained by his presence and that of Mrs. Sedley. But there was no way to avoid them, and Frank continued his course with some misgivings as to the consequences.

"Bunkers ahead!" said he.

"Never mind them, Frank," added Fred Harper. "We won't say anything to them."

"Tim will get his revenge upon us for this morning if he can,"

suggested the c.o.xswain.

"We can keep out of his way, though I don't like the idea of running away from them," replied Fred.

"I like it better than I do the idea of fighting with them. But the lake is narrow near the village," said Frank.

"We can row two rods to their one."

"They have improved a great deal by their day's practice. They are resting on their oars, waiting for us."

"Let them wait; we will mind nothing about them."

The Zephyr continued on her course. It was necessary for her to pa.s.s within a short distance of the Thunderbolt, and Frank feared they would retaliate upon them for their discomfiture in the forenoon.

"Let every member of the club mind his oar," said he, as the boat approached the vicinity of the Bunkers; "I will watch them; I want you to mind what I say, and work quick when I speak."

"We will," answered the boys.

"I suspect, if they mean anything, that they intend to rush upon us when we pa.s.s them. Yes, there is Tim bringing her head round so that she lies broadside to us, and every one of them has his oar ready to pull," Frank explained.

"Can't you cut across the lake, and avoid them?" asked Tony.

"We must pa.s.s them somewhere; and they can cut us off, whatever course we take."

"Smash them if they come too near," said Fred.

"No, no, Fred; that wouldn't do. When I tell you to stop and back her, do it promptly, and we can easily get away from them. Pull steady."

The boys rowed leisurely, and the Zephyr in a short time reached a position which was exposed to the a.s.sault of the Thunderbolt.

"Pull," cried Tim Bunker, with energy.

Her course was at right angles with that of the Zephyr. Tim had apparently made a nice calculation in regard to his intended movements.

He had started so as to come up with his rival when she reached the point in her course directly ahead of him.

The Bunkers pulled with all their might, and the two boats were rapidly nearing each other. Tim's plan had been well conceived, and the collision seemed inevitable. Frank saw that he had rightly interpreted the intentions of the Bunkers, but he still continued his course.

Suddenly, as the Thunderbolt was on the point of pouncing upon her prey, Frank, with startling energy, gave the command,--

"Way enough! Hold water! Stern all!"

Every boy, expecting the orders, was ready to execute them. The oars bent under the violent exertion they made to check the farther progress of the boat.

When the collision seemed unavoidable, Tim abandoned the helm, and leaped forward into the bow of the boat. He had a large stick in his hand; and it was evidently his intention to use it upon poor Tony, for his glance was fixed upon him with savage ferocity.

Frank's plan worked well. He had withheld the order to stop and back her till the last moment, so that Tim should have no time to change the course of the Thunderbolt, and thus derange his plan. As it was, it was a very narrow escape, and nothing but the promptness with which the order was executed averted the impending catastrophe.

The Thunderbolt pa.s.sed across the course of the Zephyr, not three feet from her bow. Tim saw that he was foiled; and enraged at his disappointment, he aimed a blow at Tony with the long stick, as his boat shot past.

Tony was beyond his reach; he leaned over the gunwale of the boat in a vain attempt to accomplish his malignant purpose. But in doing so, he lost his foothold, and was precipitated head foremost into the lake!

He disappeared beneath the dark surface of the deep water, and his boat pa.s.sed over the spot. The Zephyr, impelled backward by the vigorous strokes of her crew, was several rods from the place before the club fully realized the nature of the unfortunate occurrence.

The Thunderbolt was much nearer the place where Tim had disappeared than the Zephyr; but her crew seemed to be utterly paralyzed by the event, and unable to render the slightest a.s.sistance. One of the Bunkers took the helm, and endeavored to rally his companions; but in their confusion they were incapable of handling their oars; some pulled one way, and some another, and instead of urging the boat ahead, they only turned it round in a circle.

"Way enough!" shouted Frank, as soon as he discovered the accident.

"Give way! Tim Bunker has fallen overboard!"

The crew, though affected to some extent as the Bunkers were, used their oars with skill and energy. The presence of mind which Frank displayed inspired them with courage, and the Zephyr darted forward towards the spot where Tim had gone down.

"There he is ahead!" exclaimed Frank, with frantic earnestness; "pull with all your might!"

"Help! Save me!" cried Tim, as he rose to the surface.

The boats were both several rods distant from him. He did not swim, but seemed to struggle with all his strength, apparently with a spasmodic effort, as though he had entirely lost his self-control.