All Aboard | Page 9

"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
coxswain, 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 constitution," continued Frank.
"You stopped rowing without orders."
"What if I did!"
"You should not have done so. No member can do, or cease to do,
without orders; that's our discipline."

Tim cooled off in a moment, made a surly apology for his rudeness,
and the Zephyr continued on her course.

CHAPTER IV
.
THE FRATERNAL HUG.
The incident which had just occurred gave Frank considerable
uneasiness. Tim was naturally quarrelsome, and his former mode of life
had done nothing to improve his disposition. He had never been taught
that self-restraint is necessary to preserve social harmony. If anything
did not suit him, he was not disposed to argue the matter in a
conciliatory manner, but to right his wrongs, whether real or imaginary,
by physical force. In this manner he had obtained his reputation as a
"good fighter."
Frank began to fear that Tim had come into the club without a proper
understanding of its duties and requirements. Though he had, with an
ill grace, apologized for his conduct, he seemed to feel no compunction
on account of it; but, on the contrary, he every moment grew more
overbearing and insolent. He could not speak to his companions in a
gentlemanly manner, as they had been accustomed to be addressed. He
was course, rude, and vulgar; and the members, who had received him
among them in the best spirit possible, began to feel some repugnance
towards him.
But what could be expected of him in so short a time? They had no
reason to believe that a boy who had always been a desperado would
suddenly become a gentle and kind-hearted person. His nature wanted
refining, and such a work could not be done in a moment. These
reflections came to Frank's relief, when he had become well-nigh
discouraged at the idea of reforming Tim--discouraged more by
thinking of the vast chasm that yawned between what he was and what
he ought to be. Like the pendulum in the story, he was crowding the
work of months and years into a single instant. A little sober thought in
the proper direction set him right.
The Butterfly was darting out of "Weston Bay" as they approached.
"Cease--rowing!" said Frank. "Now, my lads, let us give them three
rousing cheers. All up! One!"

"Hurrah!"
"Two."
"Hurrah!"
"Three."
"Hurrah!"
And then the Zephyrs clapped their hands, long and loudly, and this
was the greeting which the old club gave to the new one. The
compliment was heartily returned by the Butterfly, and then the cheers
were repeated again and again. Every member seemed to glow with
kindly feeling towards the others. Even Tim Bunker for the time laid
aside his morose look, and joined in the expression of good will with as
much zeal as his companions.
"Now man your oars, Zephyrs," said Frank.
"What ye going to do now?" asked Tim, as he grasped his oar with the
others.
"You shall know in due time," replied the coxswain.
Here was another thing which Tim had yet to learn--not to ask
questions of the commander. It was a part of the discipline of the club
to obey without stopping to argue the point. Captain Sedley himself had
suggested this idea, and it had been thoroughly carried out on board the
Zephyr. It was an established principle that "the coxswain knew what
he was about," and that he alone was responsible for the guidance and
the safety of the boat.
Tim did not seem to fancy this kind of discipline. He evidently felt that
he had been born to command, and not to obey. But the consciousness
that he was in the minority induced him to yield whatever convictions
he might have had of his own superiority to the will of the "powers that
be," and he followed the example of the others.
"Ready--pull!" continued Frank.
He and Tony had arranged a little system of "fleet maneuvers," to be
carried out when the two boats met.
To the surprise of all on board,--for they were not "posted up" in regard
to these tactics,--Frank put the Zephyr about.
"Cease--rowing!" said he, when the boat was headed in the opposite
direction.
To the further surprise of the Zephyrs, they discovered that the
Butterfly had executed a similar maneuver, and that the two boats lay at

the distance of nearly a quarter of a mile apart, the bow of one pointing
directly east, and the other directly west.
"Ready to back her!"