"A better rule," remarked Tom, "would be that no fellow shall fall overboard."
"I move to amend that," cried Jim, "by forbidding any accidents to happen to any of us."
"But you can't do that," said Tom, who never understood a joke. "Accidents never would happen if people could help themselves."
"Well," said Harry, "if the rest of you will agree not to fall overboard, I'll promise that the captain sha'n't spend all his time in jumping after you. But if you are all ready, we'd better start on. There's a nice little breeze, and we can rest in the boat."
By this time Harry's shirt and trousers, which had been wrung out and hung up on a bush, were perfectly dry. He packed them away with his rubber blanket rolled tightly around them, and Jim attended to the duty of stepping the mast. Then the boys took their places, and Joe pushed the boat off with the boat-hook. The gentle breeze filled the sail, and the Whitewing went peacefully on her way up the river.
