And that time was not far distant.  James often complained to his mother that Frank was a “low-minded, mean fellow,” and urged an immediate departure.  His mother always yielded to his requests, or rather demands, no matter how unreasonable they might be; and they had scarcely made a visit of a week, when they announced their intention of leaving Lawrence by the “next boat.”

On the day previous to their departure, Mrs. Nelson had occasion to send Frank to the village for some groceries, and, as a favorable wind was blowing, he decided to go in his boat.  But, before starting, he managed to slip away from James long enough to write a few lines to Archie, urging him to come immediately.

Frank intended to start off without James’s knowledge; but the uneasy fellow was always on the look-out, and, seeing his cousin going rapidly down the walk, with a basket on each arm, and his dog—­which, like his master, had not much affection for James—­he shouted,

“Hallo, old beeswax, where are you bound for?”

“For the village,” answered Frank.

“Are you going to take the tow-path?”

“The tow-path!  I don’t know what you mean.”

“Are you going to ride shanks’ horses?”

“I don’t understand that, either.”

“Oh, you are a bass-wood man, indeed,” said James, with a taunting laugh.  “Are you going to walk?  Do you think you can comprehend me now?”

“Yes,” answered Frank, “I can understand you when you talk English.  No, I am not going to walk.”

“Then I’ll go with you, if you will leave that dog at home.”

“I don’t see what objections you can have to his company.  He always goes with me.”

“I suppose you think more of him than you do of your relations; but I’m going with you, at any rate.”

And he quickened his pace to overtake Frank.

While his cousin was hoisting the sails, James deliberately seated himself in the stern of the boat, and took hold of the tiller.

“Do you understand managing a sail-boat?” inquired Frank, as he stood ready to cast off the painter.

“If any one else had asked me that question,” answered James, with an air of injured dignity, “I should have considered it an insult.  Of course I do.”

“All right, then,” said Frank, as he pushed the boat from the wharf.  “Go ahead.  We shall be obliged to tack a good many times, going down but we can sail back like a book, and—­”

“Oh, you teach your grandmother, will you?” interrupted James.  “I’ve sailed more boats than you ever saw.”

Frank, at first, did not doubt the truth of this assertion, for James lived in a seaport town, and had had ample opportunity to learn how to manage a yacht; but they had not made twenty feet from the wharf, when he made up his mind that his cousin had never before attempted to act as skipper.

Instead of keeping as close as possible to the wind, as he should have done, he turned the boat’s head first one way and then another, and, of course, made no headway at all.