The Zephyr pushed off, and her cheerful crew pulled merrily down the
river. Frank was conscious that the organization of the boat clubs had
been the means of accomplishing the good work which the crew of the
Butterfly had just achieved. He was aware that some of the people in the
vicinity had cherished strong objections to the clubs, and that Tony had
had considerable difficulty in persuading the parents of his crew to
allow their sons to join. The adventure at the bridge, he thought, would
have a tendency to reconcile them, and to elevate and dignify boating.
At any rate a good deed had been done, and the parents of those who had
taken part in it could not but be proud of the laurels their sons had
earned.

The Zephyr, under Frank's skilful pilotage passed the rocks in safety,
though, as they darted through the narrow channel, he could see their
sharp edges only a little way below the surface of the clear water.

They had scarcely entered the open lake before they perceived the Sylph,
under full sail with a smashing breeze, close aboard of them.

"Frank!" shouted Captain Sedley, who was at the helm, while Uncle Ben
was gazing at them with a very sorrowful face from the half deck.

"Ay, ay, sir!" replied Frank, as he laid the Zephyr's course towards the
sailboat.

Though his father had only spoken his name, there was something in the
tone which could not be misapprehended; but it did not occur to him, he
was so engaged in thinking of the incidents at the bridge, that he had
disobeyed his father's command in passing into the river.