CHAPTER X. WADDIE IN A NEW CHARACTER.

Even as close-hauled as she could be under the double-reefed mainsail, the _Belle_ flew on her course; but under this short sail she did not labor so heavily as before, and I had no fear but that she would make tolerably good weather of it. As I had anticipated, I found comparatively smooth water under the lee of the west shore; but, with two reefs in the mainsail, I found it impossible to lie close enough to the wind to avoid running out into the heavy sea.

I decided to make a sheltered cove, and turn out the last reef I had put in, satisfied that I could keep close enough under this sail to avoid the savage sea in the middle of the lake. Waddie was reclining upon one of the berths, as comfortable as though he had been in his father’s house, while I was again shivering with the cold and wet to the skin. I supposed he was working up his good resolutions. I never had much hope of Waddie, his temper was so bad and his impulses so violent. On the other hand, it had always seemed to me that a very little improvement would make a good fellow of Tommy Toppleton. It was, therefore, almost incredible that the former should be the first to proclaim his good resolutions, and express a desire to mend his character.

Waddie’s impulses, whether good or evil, appeared to be equally violent. It is true I had never before heard him whisper a doubt that he was not, even morally, the best young man in the vicinity; but his demonstration seemed to be rather too enthusiastic to endure for more than a day or two, or a week at the most. Tommy Toppleton had never, I confidently believe, soared to the elevation of making good resolutions. If he had, there would have been hope of him.

My companion in the boat was engaged in deep and earnest thought. I should not have known any better what he was thinking about if he had told me in so many words. In the face of his earnestness, therefore, I could not help cherishing a slight hope that he would do better--it was not a strong hope. I determined to encourage him as much as I could, and in a gentle way make such suggestions to him from time to time as his case seemed to require.

After all, it was not so surprising that Waddie should have his eyes opened by the exciting events of that day. He had been thoroughly convinced that he was not omnipotent; that there was such a thing as retribution. Probably he was also aware of the extent of the dislike with which the Wimpletonians regarded him. He was no fool, and ordinary perception would have enabled him to comprehend his relations with his associates at the institute. I think he ought to have known all that Dick Bayard had told me; and possibly he was suspicious that his battalion and the stockholders of his steamboat company intended to mutiny against him. At any rate, he was conscious of his own unpopularity; he had acknowledged as much to me. He was in deep thought. I did not disturb him.

I turned out the reef, and Waddie still devoted himself to his meditations. The _Belle_ filled away again, and in the shelter of the shore went along quite easily. The change in the motion of the boat seemed to attract the attention of my passenger, and he opened the slide, to see what was going on.

“The wind has gone down, hasn’t it, Wolf?” said he.

“No; the sea is just as heavy out in the middle of the lake as ever. We are under the lee of the shore now.”

“You seem to be quite comfortable. I think I will come out, for I want to talk with you.”

“It is pretty dry now. You will find some more old coats under the port berth.”

Waddie presently came out of the cabin, enveloped in an old overcoat which my father had worn out. He appeared to have something on his mind, of which he was anxious to discharge himself. He took a seat by my side; but, though the _Belle_ was going along tolerably well for such a day, he did not speak for some time. Aware of his impulsive nature, I rather expected to be appointed engineer or captain of the _Ucayga_; for, as I have said before, he was the president of the steamboat company, though his movements were more effectually controlled than his rival on the other side of the lake.

“Wolf, I know you don’t like me very well,” said he, at last, and with something like a troubled look on his face.

“Well, I can’t say that your conduct toward me has been such as to make me love you very much. I won’t be a hypocrite, Waddie,” I replied.

“But what made you interfere when those fellows were abusing me?” he asked, looking me full in the face. “If you don’t like me, why did you risk a broken head to save me? That’s what I want to know.”

“I don’t know that I can explain my conduct very well,” I answered, laughing. “I have always tried to think kindly of those who wanted to injure me. I thought that those fellows were doing an abominably mean and wicked thing, and that it was my duty to interfere. That’s really all I know about it.”

“I can’t understand it. I was in hopes that, after all I have done and said, you really did like me.”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“No matter; of course, I can’t blame you for not liking me; but I want to begin anew. When I gave you my hand, and wanted to be friends, I was in real earnest. I want you to be my friend, and stand by me.”

“Stand by you!” I exclaimed. “I can’t stand by you unless you are in the right. I wouldn’t stand by you after you, with another, had caught a small boy and licked him.”

Waddie bit his lips, and I thought he was going to get mad, for what I had said was a home-thrust.

“I was wrong in that, Wolf,” said he, with a struggle, which was creditable to him, and which raised him very much in my estimation.

“You were, indeed; and that scrape was the father of the one you got into to-day.”

“I know it; and I am afraid there are other scrapes in store for me. The institute fellows and the members of our battalion are down upon me; so is the steamboat company.”

“Do you wish me to tell you just what I think, Waddie?” I asked.

“I certainly do.”

“Even if it is not pleasant?”

“Yes; say on.”

“If I were in your place, Waddie, I would be the most popular fellow in the whole region round about us. I would have every fellow like me, and stand by me,” I continued earnestly, as the boat approached the Narrows.

“Well, I have tried to be.”

“Have you, indeed!” I replied, laughing in spite of myself at the absurdity of the proposition, though it is very likely Waddie believed what he said, strange as it may seem.

“I have been president of the steamboat company, major of the battalion; and I don’t see why the fellows don’t like me.”

“I will tell you candidly why they do not. Because you think more of yourself than you do of any other fellow. You are selfish and exacting. You think every fellow ought to yield to you; and you are tyrannical and overbearing toward them. That’s what’s the matter, though I shouldn’t have said so if you had not told me to do it.”

“Do you think I am so bad as that?” said he, looking moody and solemn, rather than angry, as I supposed he would be.

“I have told you just what I think. Look at it for yourself a moment. Go back to the time when you blowed up that canal-boat. Do you think you treated the skipper and his daughter just right? Then you threatened to blow out my brains if I did not do as you told me.”

“Don’t say any more about that. I am willing to own that I was wrong,” pleaded he.

“Well, come down to a later day. At the auction you commanded me not to bid on the _Belle_. You pitched into me, tooth and nail, because I did bid. You forbade my going on the _Ucayga_, just as Tommy Toppleton ordered me not to ride on his railroad, though I paid my fare in both instances. I don’t rake up these things for any other purpose than to prove what I said. You can’t expect any fellow to like you if you conduct yourself in such a manner.”

“What shall I do?”

“Do anything but what you have done. Respect the wishes and feelings, and especially the rights, of others, whether they be poor or rich. I happen to know myself that the institute fellows are down upon you, and that they don’t mean to stand your domineering and tyranny much longer.”

“What are they going to do?” he asked curiously.

“I’m sure I don’t know; only that they mean mutiny, in general terms. It is just the same on our side of the lake. The Toppletonians intend to pull Tommy down from his high places. At the last election of officers they did elect another president, but he declined to serve, though he was sorry enough afterward that he did not stand.”

“You talk plainly, Wolf,” continued Waddie seriously. “I don’t think I’m quite so hard a fellow as you make me out to be.”

“I tell you just what I think, and just what others think.”

“You are my friend now--are you not, Wolf?”

“I will do everything I can for you; and if you will do what is right I will stand by you to the end of time.”

“By the great horn spoon, I will do right if I know how! You shall tell me what to do.”

“I don’t want to tell you what to do. If you mean right, you can’t very well go wrong.”

“You will advise me, won’t you?”

“Certainly I will, if you wish me to do so.”

“What would you do now if you were in my place?”

The arrival of the _Belle_ at Centreport pier prevented me from answering this question, though I kept thinking of it while I was securing the boat to enable Waddie to go on shore. But he was not willing to part with me, and insisted so strongly that I should go up to “his house” with him that I could not refuse. He clung to me like a brother, and I was confident that he intended then to mend his manners, whether he held out in the resolution or not. I lowered my sail, and walked up the street with him.

I went to his house, and the visit was productive of the most important results.