CHAPTER XXVII.

A SLEEPY SHIP'S COMPANY.

The wind was from the west, and there was but little of it. Tom knew a great deal more about sailing a boat than when he tried to handle the Goldwing; and he trimmed the sails on the port-tack so that the schooner went along very well, though she was making not more than two knots an hour. It was very dark, and the gloom of the night was rather trying to the new skipper. But he could see the light on Split Rock Point, and steered for that.

It was very quiet on the lake at midnight, for there was nothing to create a particle of excitement. There was nothing to be done to the sails; for Tom could hardly see them, and he was not skilful enough to know their condition from the feeling. He had sent Kidd Digfield and Pell Sankland to the forecastle to keep a lookout, while the other four remained in the standing-room with the chief.

Tom had hardly laid a course before his companions began to gape and yawn. Not one of them was accustomed to being up at so late an hour; and all of them had done a day's work in the shop, and pulled the Winooski for an hour after supper. They were tired; and, when the first excitement of Tom's scheme had died out, they began to wish they were in bed in their rooms.

The lookout on the forecastle were troubled in the same way. There was nothing to do, and little to think about. The leader's sealed orders did not permit any play of the imagination; and what the day would bring forth they could not imagine, even if every thing worked as Tom expected. Kidd gaped, and Pell gaped. They found the softest places on deck, and stretched themselves out. In a few minutes they were both fast asleep.

With the wheel in his hands, Tom had enough to keep him awake for a time. Bent Fillwing had not a great deal of confidence in the seamanship of the skipper, and he kept watch of the course of the boat. But, with the light ahead, it was not easy for him to go wrong; for there were no islands or dangerous places in the course.

"Are we all to sit up all night, Tom?" asked Bent, when he had nearly dislocated his jaws with gaping. "Some of us might as well go to bed, and sleep till morning."

"I guess not," replied Tom. "Do you want to leave me alone on deck?"

"Why can't we have watches, just as we had on the trial trip?" asked Bent, gaping again.

"All right. In that case we shall want a mate, and I appoint Nim Splugger. I will keep the other watch myself."

If Bent had not been rather more than half asleep, he might have rebelled at this selection; for Nim was generally regarded as one of the poorest sailors in the crew. But he made no objection; though Nim, conscious of his lack of ability, declined the position. He did not feel competent to take charge of the vessel in the absence of the skipper. He whispered his thought to Tom, and suggested that he should appoint Bent to the position.

"I won't do it!" exclaimed Tom decidedly.

"Won't do what?" demanded Bent, who heard this answer, though he had not heard Nim's suggestion.

The skipper made no reply, but he insisted that Nim would do very well, and must be mate, whether he were willing or not. Bent Fillwing had a mind of his own, and he was disposed to resist the authority of the leader sometimes. Tom was afraid to make him his second in command. He feared that Kidd and Pell might be weak when he needed their support, and he could not depend upon them. Jack Dumper was about the same sort of a cipher as Nim.

"If Nim is to be mate, let us have the crew divided into watches," said Bent impatiently, and with a succession of yawns.

"I choose Jack Dumper," added Tom.

"I take Bent Fillwing," continued Nim, submitting to the greatness thrust upon him.

"Pell Sankland," said the captain.

"Kidd Diggfield," followed the mate, taking the last.

"According to rule, the captain's watch has the deck, and the port-watch can turn in," continued Bent, rising from his seat. "We are to sleep for the next four hours. You will call us at four in the morning, Tom."

"I shall call you when I want you," said Tom sharply; for Bent talked as though he were the skipper, and he damaged the dignity of the captain.

"By that time you can hear the church-clocks at Burlington, and you will know when it is four o'clock. Now, Nim, go forward, and call Kidd Digfield."

"Go yourself, Bent," interposed Tom, who thought the speaker was giving off orders as though he thought he was the captain.

But Nim was not injured by the words of his subordinate, and he went forward. He roused the sleepers, and informed them that they were divided into watches, and Kidd could turn in. He was glad enough to do so, and he followed the mate to the cabin. This apartment was a good-sized room, and contained four berths. They were all furnished; and every thing on board was in place, as though she had been prepared for a long voyage. There was a lantern hanging to a beam, which Bent lighted. Without a moment's delay they turned in, and were soon asleep.

Pell Sankland wished he had been in the starboard-watch, but it was all the same to him. He turned over and went to sleep again, as soon as Kidd had gone below. Jack Dumper had reclined on the cushioned seats of the standing-room, and he was asleep almost as soon as the lookout on the forecastle.

Tom Topover had an imagination, coarse and low as it was; and its wings were not clipped by the secrecy which limited the thoughts of his companions. The Lily passed Split Rock Light, and the lake was wider than below this point. The wind freshened a little, and the schooner increased her speed.

Tom did not feel quite as much at home as he had before. The gloom of the night vexed him, and the water looked black. He had never been a close observer of the lake; but he knew that there were islands between the mouth of Beaver River and Burlington, and it would not be a difficult matter to run over them. He had never sailed at night before, and knew nothing of the position of the lights, except the one on Split Rock Point. He could see another ahead, just as far as he could see at all; but he had forgotten where it was, if he had ever known.

The skipper was troubled, and spoke to Jack Dumper; but the fellow was fast asleep. He stood up, and looked ahead to see if there were any obstructions in his course. He could see nothing, but he lacked confidence. He thought of calling Bent, for he knew more about the lake than any other fellow on board; but he could not ask for help from one who aspired to power. In spite of himself and the perplexity of his position, he began to gape and yawn. He was so sleepy he could hardly keep his eyes open, and something must be done.

Taking Jack Dumper by the collar, he dragged him off the cushions before he could get a word out of him. His watch-mate knew less than the skipper about the lake. He could not tell any thing about the islands. He sent him forward to ask Pell. The lookout was roused with difficulty; and, when he was awake, he was so heavy that he could not remember that there was a single island in the lake. Tom rated both of his watch-mates for going to sleep; and, putting the helm down, he directed them to haul in the sheets. They knew how to do this, and it was done.

The skipper could keep his eyes open no longer, and he dropped asleep once at the wheel. But the shaking of the sails waked him in a minute. He had headed the Lily for Cannon's Point, where she had anchored on Saturday. He called on his watch to haul down the jib and let go the anchor. The wind was light, and he did not lower the other sails. He dismissed the watch, and they all went below. Tom took the remaining berth, and his two companions laid down on a divan. They were asleep as soon as they had stretched themselves out.

When the sun rose, it brought up a breeze with it from the south-west. The sails which had been left in a very unseamanlike condition, began to rattle and bang. They filled, and the schooner forged ahead until she was brought up by her anchor. Then the sails went over, and filled on the other tack; and the racket was repeated. As the wind increased in force, the noise and shaking increased, until even the heavy sleepers in the cabin were disturbed. Bent Fillwing was the first to wake. He rushed to the companion-way, and took a look at things on deck.

The schooner was at anchor, and the jib was hauled down. He returned to the cabin, and saw Tom fast asleep in his berth. The rest of the starboard-watch were snoring on the divan. At this moment the wind filled the fore and main sails, and the yacht heeled over till Bent could hardly stand up.

"Tom Topover!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "You are a pretty captain!"

"What's the matter, Bent?" asked Tom, straightening himself up in his berth.

"Nothing yet, but something will soon be the matter. Is this the way you sail the schooner? You are a pretty captain, to turn in and leave the Lily to take care of herself!" raved Bent, indignant at the conduct of the captain.

"Hold your jaw, Bent Fillwing, or I will bat you over the head!" returned Tom, as soon as he came to the consciousness that he was the captain of the schooner, and that one of the crew was scolding at him. "Go on deck, and lower the sails!"

"Lower the sails! Are you going to stay here all day? It is sunrise now, and we ought to be down to Plattsburgh by this time," replied Bent.

"I am captain of this craft, and you will obey orders," added Tom, as he turned over in his berth, as if he intended to go to sleep again.

The racket on board had aroused Pell Sankland and Kidd Digfield. Bent told them to follow him, and he went on deck. They were surprised, as Bent had been, to find the schooner at anchor under the lee of Cannon's Point. Without losing any time, and without regard to the orders of the sleepy captain, they got up the anchor, hoisted the jib, and the Lily stood away from her anchorage.

Bent put Kidd Digfield at the wheel, and then went into the cabin to "have it out" with the captain. Though he had learned all about nautical obedience on board of the Sylph, he was not inclined to practise it on the present occasion. In fact, he was disposed to be a rebel, and to bring the captain to a sense of duty. He went to Tom's berth. The chief Topover was fast asleep.

The skipper had settled on his back, with his arms spread out. Bent was on the point of taking him by the collar, to bring him to a sense of duty,—for he had lost all his respect for the dignity of the office, since the incumbent had abandoned his post,—when he saw something protruding from the vest-pocket of the sleeper.

It looked like a roll of bank-bills. Without disturbing the unconscious skipper, he laid hands upon it, and adroitly secured possession of it. He did not wait to have it out with Tom. As he had supposed when he first saw it, the object was a roll of bills. With his prize, Bent went on deck again.