OLIVER OPTIC'S
BOAT-BUILDER SERIES.
STEM * TO * STERN.
BOSTON,
LEE _AND_ SHEPARD
PUBLISHERS.
[Illustration: "Walk Billcord rushed out from the bushes."--Page 19.]
_THE BOAT-BUILDER SERIES_
STEM TO STERN
OR
BUILDING THE BOAT
BY
OLIVER OPTIC
AUTHOR OF "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD," "THE GREAT WESTERN SERIES," "THE
ARMY AND NAVY SERIES," "THE WOODVILLE SERIES," "THE STARRY-FLAG
SERIES," "THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES," "THE ONWARD AND
UPWARD SERIES," "THE YACHT-CLUB SERIES," "THE
LAKE-SHORE SERIES," "THE RIVERDALE SERIES,"
"ALL ADRIFT," "SNUG HARBOR,"
"SQUARE AND COMPASSES,"
ETC., ETC.
With Illustrations
BOSTON
LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM
1886
_Copyright, 1885_,
BY WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
_All Rights Reserved._
STEM TO STERN.
ELECTROTYPED BY
C. J. PETERS & SON, BOSTON.
TO
MY ADOPTED "NEVVY,"
JOHN S. SHRIVER
OF BALTIMORE,
THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.
The Boat-Builder Series.
1. ALL ADRIFT; OR, THE GOLDWING CLUB.
2. SNUG HARBOR; OR, THE CHAMPLAIN MECHANICS.
3. SQUARE AND COMPASSES; OR, BUILDING THE HOUSE.
4. STEM TO STERN; OR, BUILDING THE BOAT.
5. ALL TAUT; OR, RIGGING THE BOAT.
6. READY ABOUT; OR, SAILING THE BOAT.
PREFACE.
"STEM TO STERN" is the fourth volume of the "BOAT-BUILDER SERIES." Most
of the characters connected with the Beech Hill Industrial School
continue to take part in the action of the story. Like its predecessors,
a considerable portion of the work is devoted to business and mechanical
information. The writer finds it quite impracticable to give as minute
directions for the building of a boat as a few of his young readers may
desire, for the entire volume would hardly afford sufficient space for
all the details of planning and constructing a yacht. But he has
endeavored to impart some information in a general way in regard to
shipbuilding, and has indicated in what manner the ambitious young
boat-builder may obtain the amplest instruction in this difficult art.
It is necessary to assure his young friends that, with all the
book-knowledge it is possible to obtain on the subject, it will require
a great deal of skill and not a little scientific and technical learning
to enable him to construct anything more elaborate than an ordinary
flatboat. Nothing but assiduous practice can procure the skill, and
nothing but hard study the geometrical and technical details of the art.
As in the preceding volumes of the series, "STEM TO STERN" is largely a
story of adventure on Lake Champlain and its shores. A new character is
introduced as the leading spirit of the story, whose struggles with the
difficulties in his life-path can hardly fail to interest the young
reader. Though he is peaceful and submissive under ordinary
circumstances, with none of the swellish importance of many boys of his
years, he is not a milk-and-water youth, and has pluck and strength
enough to "stand up" for those whom misfortune has placed under his
protection.
Although the two remaining volumes of the series are especially devoted
to rigging and sailing a boat, the present and the preceding books
incidentally treat of these subjects. While so many young men on the
sea, lakes and rivers seem to inherit or early acquire a taste for boats
and boating, it is important that they should understand the theory of
managing a sailing craft, though nothing but intelligent practice can
make a competent "skipper." With such knowledge and skill, boat-sailing
is a safe, as well as a healthy and improving sport.
As in former volumes, the writer has endeavored to interest his young
readers in mechanical operations and pursuits; and he hopes the series
will contribute its mite in influencing boys to respect manual labor and
to adopt it as a pastime or the business of life.
DORCHESTER, MASS., August 17, 1885.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
LILY BRISTOL AND HER TORMENTOR 13
CHAPTER II.
THE SON OF TOIL FIGHTS HIS OWN BATTLE 25
CHAPTER III.
THE FINAL MANDATE OF MAJOR BILLCORD 35
CHAPTER IV.
THE ABSENCE OF THE TRUANT DRAGON 45
CHAPTER V.
THE GOLDWING AT SANDY POINT 55
CHAPTER VI.
A CALL FOR ALL HANDS AT BEECH HILL 65
CHAPTER VII.
AN EXPEDITION BY MOONLIGHT 75
CHAPTER VIII.
A CHANGE OF LOCATION 85
CHAPTER IX.
THE JANITOR OF THE BOAT-HOUSE 95
CHAPTER X.
A LECTURE ON SHIP-BUILDING 105
CHAPTER XI.
ROUGH WATER ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN 117
CHAPTER XII.
A SAILBOAT IN THE TROUGH OF THE SEA 126
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DISASTER TO THE SILVER MOON 135
CHAPTER XIV.
THE WORK OF AN INCOMPETENT SKIPPER 145
CHAPTER XV.
"ROLL ON, SILVER MOON" 155
CHAPTER XVI.
DORY DORNWOOD GIVES A LESSON IN BOAT-SAILING 167
CHAPTER XVII.
THE MISSION OF THE SIX RUFFIANS 176
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE RESULT OF AN UNEQUAL CONFLICT 186
CHAPTER XIX.
A DEADLOCK AT THE HEAD OF THE BAY 196
CHAPTER XX.
THE REBELLIOUS SKIPPER OF THE SLOOP 206
CHAPTER XXI.
AN OUTRAGE IN THE STANDING-ROOM OF THE SLOOP 216
CHAPTER XXII.
AN INVITATION TO SANDY POINT 226
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE PROCEEDINGS AT SANDY POINT 236
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE STUDENTS DECIDE "WHAT'S IN A NAME" 246
CHAPTER XXV.
BUILDING THE BOAT 256
CHAPTER XXVI.
THAT CUNNING TOM TOPOVER 266
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE BRILLIANT STRATEGY OF THE BRUISER 276
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A HARD BATTLE AT SANDY POINT 286
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE ENGINEER OF THE UNDINE 296
CHAPTER XXX.
LAUNCHING THE BOAT 312
STEM TO STERN;
OR,
BUILDING THE BOAT.
CHAPTER I.
LILY BRISTOL AND HER TORMENTOR.
"I don't want anybody to row for me, Mr. Walker; I came out to take a
little exercise, and I can do it best when I am all alone," said Miss
Lily Bristol to a young gentleman of about eighteen who stood on the
sandy beach.
"But it will be a good deal more sociable to have company," replied Walk
Billcord with a smile and a smirk.
Lily Bristol had the reputation of being a very pretty girl, and fame
had not exaggerated her beauty. She was very plainly dressed, but she
was as neat as though she had just come out of the bureau-drawer. She
was seated in a rude flatboat, with a pair of oars in her hands, which
she seemed to know how to use.
The boat was only a rod or two from the end of Sandy Point, at the
southern side of the entrance to a bay with the same name. It was in the
spring of the year, and the water in Lake Champlain was at its highest.
Hardly more than a rod from the point where the rippling waves sported
with the bright sand was a small and lightly-built cottage. It contained
two rooms on the lower floor, with two small attic chambers over them.
The structure rested on posts set in the sand, and looked as light and
airy as a bird-cage.
This cottage was the home of Peter Bristol, or, rather, of his wife and
two children; for the father of the family had been away for two years,
seeking to better his impaired fortunes. Peter had always been a poor
man, and was always likely to be. He had been a sort of
Jack-at-all-trades, not particularly good at any. He had been a fireman
on a railroad, a farm-hand, a general jobber; he had tried his hand at
almost everything without much success.
Major Billcord owned all the land near Sandy Point. Some years before,
he had taken it into his head that the high ground in the rear of Sandy
Bay would be an excellent site for a hotel. Some of his friends did not
agree with him, and assured him that a hotel could not live in this
location.
But the major was an obstinate man, and had his own way. He erected a
structure of fifty rooms, with the intention of adding a hundred more
after the first season. But for half a dozen reasons the hotel was a
dreary failure. It never contained more than half a score of guests at
any one time.
Included in this small number was Colonel Buckmill, who was then looking
for a suitable site for an academy. The owner of the estate would not
admit that the hotel was a failure, but he hinted that the building
might be obtained for the school. It exactly suited Colonel Buckmill,
and a bargain was soon made for a lease of it. In this manner the
Sunnyside Hotel became the Chesterfield Collegiate Institute in the
autumn of the same year.
Of course, one of the attractions of the Sunnyside was to be boating on
the lake, and Major Billcord provided two sailboats and some rowboats;
and Peter Bristol, who Was a good boatman, was engaged to take care of
the boats, and act as skipper when required. The poor man, taking his
cue from his employer, believed he had fallen upon a bonanza. His
fortune was made, and the rest of his days would be spent at Sandy
Point.
His wife had over three hundred dollars in her own right in a savings
bank, which she was willing to put into a house, and the cottage on the
point was built. The family moved into it, and were delighted with the
situation, though it was a rather dismal place in the winter. Peter was
to have half the money derived from letting the boats; but he soon found
that he had nothing to do. The few guests did not care to row or sail.
The boatman had no rent to pay, for the major had given him permission
to put his house on the point without charge; but he found it was very
hard work to get enough for his family to eat. Lily obtained work in
Westport, and Paul attended to the boats while his father worked at
haying, and they got through the season. But the dream of fortune had
collapsed.
Peter Bristol was discouraged, and went to New York to find work. He
obtained no situation, and shipped for the West Indies. A letter from
him informed his family that he was at work on a plantation, and he
hoped to do well after a while. Since that, nothing had been heard from
him in two years.
Paul obtained a little work at the institute, and Lily kept her place in
Westport; so that the family had worried along until the daughter lost
her situation for the want of sufficient work at the store in which she
was employed. Then it was difficult even to obtain enough to eat. Paul
did his best, and allowed himself to be bullied and kicked by the
gentlemanly students of the institute, while he could make an occasional
quarter.
Major Billcord lived in Westport, and his son had lately become a pupil
in the institute. He was older than most of the students, and was a wild
young fellow. In the early spring he had seen Lily Bristol. He agreed
with others who had seen her that she was a remarkably pretty girl, and
he had made frequent visits to Sandy Point.
"I prefer to be in the boat alone," Lily replied to the young
gentleman's remark that it would be more sociable to have company.
"But I want to see you, Lily, and have a talk with you," persisted
Walker Billcord.
"I will see you at the cottage if you desire," answered Lily.
"But I wish to see you alone."
"You cannot see me alone, sir," replied the pretty maiden with a great
deal of spirit.
"What's the reason I can't? I shall not hurt you. I think I know how to
behave like a gentleman."
"Perhaps you do," added Lily rather doubtfully, for Walk Billcord's
reputation was none of the best.
"If you will come to the shore, I will row you all about the bay," Walk
insisted. "I will make it as pleasant for you as possible."
"No, I thank you," replied the damsel decidedly.
"What's the matter with you? I hope you don't think I mean to do you any
harm."
"I am not afraid of you, but I choose to be alone in the boat."
With this she pulled away from the shore, though he continued to call
out to her as long as she was within hearing. She did not like the young
man at all, but rather despised than feared him. He had often thrown
himself in her way, and exerted himself to please her. She was civil to
him, and that was all.
Lily remained in the boat, pulling about the little bay for over an
hour. Walk had stood upon the beach for at least half an hour, waiting
for her return to the shore. Then he had retired, and the fair maiden
supposed he had gone back to the institute. When she had taken all the
air and exercise she thought she needed, she rowed back to the shore.
Just as she had driven the bow of the flatboat as far as she could on
the sand, Walk Billcord rushed out from the bushes, where he had
concealed himself, and prevented her from getting out of the boat.
She had put the oars under the thwarts, and arranged everything inside
of the boat, which had delayed her a few moments. But as soon as she saw
her tormentor running to the waterside, she attempted to leap out of the
boat.
"No, you don't, my pretty maiden!" exclaimed Walk, as he seized her by
the shoulders, and crowded her back to her seat in the stern.
Under the impetus of the force applied to her by the young man, Lily
dropped into the seat, and was obliged to grasp the gunwale of the boat
to avoid being thrown into the water. The fair face of the young lady
was flushed with anger, as well it might have been, for she had not
suspected that her tormentor would resort to violence.
She was not inclined to submit quietly to the will of Walk, for she
immediately drew out one of the oars from under the thwarts, and poised
it in the air, as though she intended to defeat the intentions of the
reckless young gentleman even by meeting force with force.
Walk Billcord stood for a moment holding on at the prow of the boat, as
though he was undecided as to his next step. Doubtless he felt that he
had already passed the bounds of propriety, and appeared to be
considering whether it was prudent to proceed any further. A glance at
the glowing and indignant face of Lily increased his interest in the
adventure, and he was not willing to leave her in the moment of her
heightened beauty.
Lily was the daughter of a poor dependent of his father: at least, he so
regarded her, and thought he had some right to subject her to his own
whim. He wanted to row her about the bay, and talk with her; and this
was the extent of his present wishes. It was only a "bit of a lark," a
harmless pleasantry, on his part, as he afterward explained it, and he
had not the slightest intention of injuring her.
The fair maiden did not regard herself as a proper subject for the young
gentleman's pleasantry, and she was prepared to bring down the blade of
the oar upon his head if the occasion should require. In the attitude of
defence she waited for his next demonstration. The upraised oar rather
tempted Walk to proceed, and he pushed the bow of the boat from the
sand, springing into the foresheets as he did so.
As this was not a direct assault upon her, Lily did not bring down the
oar upon his head, as she would under greater provocation, but she
dropped it into the water at the stern of the boat. The water was shoal;
and, setting the blade upon the sand at the bottom, she dexterously
whirled the craft about, bringing the stern within a few feet of the dry
sands on the shore.
Mr. Walk Billcord did not object to this movement, as it was necessary
to head the boat away from the shore; but he deemed it prudent to secure
the other oar before his fair companion could do so. He stooped down and
got hold of the blade end of it. It required a little tact to remove it
from its position under the thwarts; and, while he was engaged in doing
it, Lily gave the oar another push, forcing the boat close up to the
shore.
Without waiting for her tormentor to get the second oar over the forward
thwart, she leaped lightly upon the dry sand, effecting her landing
without wetting the soles of her shoes. She still held the oar in her
hand, and stood on the shore, waiting for the next move of her
unwelcome companion.
She was too proud to run away from such a contemptible being as she
considered Mr. Walk Billcord. She looked as though she felt abundantly
able to defend herself from any attack on the part of the unmanly
persecutor. She evidently believed that he had no serious intention to
harm her, but was simply making her the sport of his whim.
The moment she leaped ashore, Walk realized that she had got the better
of him. Whatever he intended, he did not like to be outdone by a feeble
girl. It was not pleasant for him, even in fun, to be outwitted by a
weak maiden. He felt that he had not been smart, and he was annoyed at
the situation. His vanity demanded that he should do something to get
"even" with his intended victim.
The confident look and attitude of Lily on the shore disconcerted him,
and invited further action on his part. He had not yet obtained
possession of the oar, for it had to be shoved back before it could be
passed over the forward thwart. But he had no present need of the
implement, and he abandoned it to survey the position of Lily. He
interpreted her looks and attitude as a defiance.
The boat, detached from the sand, was floating away from the shore.
With a long leap he planted his feet on the land, and the effect of his
movement was to drive the boat farther from the beach. A gentle breeze
from the westward was driving it farther away, and Lily saw that it
would soon be out of her reach.
She rushed to the water's edge, and, reaching out as far as she could,
she succeeded in placing the end of the blade on the prow. She began to
draw the truant craft toward the shore, when Walk put himself at her
side. He took the oar from her hand, and pulled the craft up till its
bottom grated on the sand.
Lily took a stick, and tried to get hold of the painter. As soon as she
had it in her hand, Walk took it from her. He not only took the rope,
but the hand which held it. He grasped her wrist with one hand, while he
tried to drag the boat ashore with the other. He soon found that he had
his hands full, both literally and figuratively.
Lily attempted to shake him off; but Walk tightened his hold upon her
wrist, though he had to drop the painter of the boat, which, having no
hold upon the land, began to float off into the open lake. The fair
maiden turned and twisted in her efforts to escape, but the young
ruffian held on like a vise.
In a moment or two she was exhausted with the violence of her exertions,
and by this time she was thoroughly frightened. Very likely Walk had no
worse intentions than at first, and was simply engaged in the business
of getting "even" with the weak maiden who had outwitted him.
"What do you mean, you wretch? Let go of me!" gasped Lily, her chest
heaving with terror and emotion.
"Don't make a fuss, my pretty one; I will not harm you," replied Walk.
"Let go of me, Mr. Billcord! I thought you claimed to be a gentleman!
Let go, or I will scream," panted Lily.
"I only want to take a little row with you, and I shall, you may depend
upon that," added Walk, picking up the oar which had fallen on the
beach. "Don't make a fuss, and I won't hurt you."
But Lily again renewed the struggle with all her might. Just at that
moment, Paul Bristol and his mother came out of the cottage. The boy was
a stout youth of fifteen, and, the moment he saw what was going on, he
broke into a run.