The school year was ended; and it was remarked that the school had never been in a more flourishing condition.  The boys, stimulated by the boat organizations, had made remarkable progress, and parents and committee sympathized with them in the pleasant anticipations of the coming vacation.

Since his defection in June, the conduct of Charles Hardy had been in the highest degree satisfactory.  His character seemed to be radically changed.  He did not “put on airs,” nor aspire to high places.  His pride had been lowered, and he was modest and gentle; therefore my young friends will not be surprised to learn that his associates had rewarded his endeavors to do well by electing him coxswain of the Zephyr.

On the morning of the day appointed for the grand excursion, the squadron, as it formed in line opposite Captain Sedley’s house, consisted of the following boats, manned and commanded as below:-

Zephyr, 12 oars, (bearing the broad pennant of
    Commodore Sedley,) Charles Hardy. 
Butterfly, 12 oars, Paul Munroe. 
Bluebird, 12 " Fred Harper. 
Rainbow, 12 " William Bright. 
Lily, 8 " Henry Brown. 
Dart, 8 " Dick Chester. 
Dip, 4 " (tender,) Tony Weston.

My young readers need not be indignant at finding so brave and skilful an officer as Tony Weston in command of the little Dip, deeming it an insignificant position for him to occupy; for the tender was to be detailed on special duty, and the appointment was a marked compliment to his skill and judgment.

The system of signals established for the use of the fleet was very simple, and consisted of plain flags of red, white, blue, yellow, green, orange, and purple, each color being a distinct order.  The discipline of the fleet was of a mongrel character, composed of naval and military tactics.  When the squadron sailed in compact order verbal commands were given; and when the boats were too far apart for the word to be heard, signals were used.  But these details will be better understood as the squadron proceeds on its voyage.

The boats were ranged in line, side by side, with the Zephyr on the right, the Butterfly on the left, and the Dip in the middle, each with its gay flags floating to the breeze.  All the oars were in-board, and the clubs were waiting for the commodore’s orders.

On board the Zephyr, a longer staff than she had formerly used was erected, on which, half way up, was placed her fly, and at the top the broad pennant-of blue, covered with silver stars.  On this pole the signals were hoisted, when the pennant had to be lowered for the time.

All eyes were directed to the commodore, who was standing up in the stern sheets of the flag boat.

“Ready!” said he, in a voice loud enough to be heard the whole length of the line; and every boy grasped his oar.

“Up!”

It was a beautiful sight to observe the precision with which the oars were erected.  A company of soldiers could not have handled their muskets with more unanimity.

“Down!” and in like manner the oars dropped into the water.

Those who have observed the manner in which a military officer gives his orders have discovered the secret of this pleasing concord of action.  Commands consist, except in a series, of two words; and dwelling for an instant on the first keeps all in a state of readiness to act the instant the second is given.  Frank had studied the matter while witnessing the evolutions of the Rippleton Guards, and he had adopted the plan in the club.  When the captain said “shoulder,” the men knew what was coming; and at the word “arms,” the evolution was performed.  So with “present-arms!” “file-right!” “left-wheel!” etc.; and to these observations he was indebted for the proficiency of his club, and of the fleet.

“Ready-pull!” he continued.

The stroke was very slow, and each coxswain was obliged to keep his boat in line with the others, the flag boat regulating their speed.

When the squadron had reached the upper part of the lake, the pennant was dropped, and up went a red flag.

“Cease-rowing!” said all the coxswains, except the Zephyr’s.

Then the red flag was lowered, and a blue one was hoisted.

“In single line,” the coxswain of the Bluebird, which was next to the Zephyr, interpreted the signal, and his boat followed the flag.

The others came into the line in proper order, and the squadron passed entirely round the lake.

“Cease-rowing!” exclaimed the coxswains, in concert, as the red flag again appeared.

Up went a green flag, and the line was formed; then a yellow, to form in sections of two.  In this order the squadron pulled down the lake again, to the widest part, where various fanciful evolutions were performed-which it would be impossible to describe on paper.  One of them was rowing in a circle round the Dip; another was two circles of three boats each, pulling in opposite directions.  Then the boats were sent off in six different ways, forming a hexagon, with the tender in the center; after which they all came together so that their stems touched each other, in the shape of a star.

“Now, boys, we are ready for the voyage up Rippleton River,” said Commodore Sedley.  “I need not tell you that the utmost caution must be used.  Watch the flags closely, and every coxswain be very prudent.”

“Ay, ay!”

“Tony will lead in the Dip, and each boat will place a man in the bow to look out for buoys, which he will place over rocks and shoals.”

“Ay, ay,” answered the coxswains.

“Now, Tony, you may go up and mark off the rocks at the mouth of the river.”

The little Dip, which had a picked crew for the occasion, darted away up the lake, leaving the rest of the fleet to follow.

“Form a line!” shouted Frank, and the boats backed out from their positions, and in a moment had obeyed the order.

“Ready-pull;” and the fleet moved slowly and grandly up the lake.

The boys were in high spirits.  There was something inspiring in the operations of the squadron that would have moved a more steady mind than that of a boy of twelve.  Every moment was a revelation of the power that dwelt in them, of the beauty of order, of the grace of harmonious action.  As in the great world, a single intractable spirit might have produced a heap of confusion, and it was the purpose of the organization to bring each into harmony with the whole.

The fleet reached the mouth of the river.  Tony had placed buoys on the dangerous rocks each side of the channel, so that the boats, by approaching it in the right direction, could easily pass through in safety.

The Dip had been provided with a large number of these buoys.  They were pieces of board, part of them painted red, and part blue, with a line and weight attached to each.  Near the dangerous rock or shoal one of these buoys was to be located, which would be kept in place by the weight.  The coxswains had written instructions from the commodore to keep red ones on the starboard side, and blue on the port side, going up the river, and vice versa coming down.

The Zephyr took position near the rocks to see that every boat approached the channel in the right direction, as, if they did not, they would be sure to strike.  By these extraordinary precautions, the fleet passed through in safety, and three stunning cheers announced that the passage had been effected.

“Here we are, Charley,” said Frank, as the Zephyr pulled ahead of the other boats.

“All safe, thanks to the skill and prudence of our commodore,” replied Charles; and the reader will be struck with the modesty of his language.

“Where is Tony?  I don’t see him.”

“Round the bend, I guess; but here are his buoys all along.”

“Signal man, hoist the blue,” continued the commodore; and the fleet followed in single line.

“Here’s the bridge; I fancy Tony knows the soundings here,” said Charles.

“Ay, there is the rock on which Mr. Walker’s chaise hung.  It is almost out of water, now.”

“Did you hear what Mr. Walker said when some one asked him why he did not sue the town?”

“No; what was it?”

“He said it was the luckiest day of his life when he pitched off the bridge.”

“Indeed!”

“He has thought so much better of humanity since, and it introduced him to Tony Weston, whom he calls a hero in embryo.”

“Mr. Walker is a nice man-a whole-souled man.”

“That he is!  How many men would have done for us what he did?  And I, in particular, have reason to be grateful to him,” said Charles, with a sigh.  “I shall never forget him and your father, wherever my lot is cast.”

“That is manly of you, Charley.  But I am sure they have been abundantly rewarded by your devotion to duty since.”

“I have tried to do right.”

“You have done well; everybody says so.”

“I cannot soon forget what a fool I was to believe Tim’s wicked lies.  I suppose I wanted to believe them, or I should not.”

“It is a great pity we ever let Tim into the club; but we meant right; we meant to reform him.  Where do you suppose he is now?”

“Somewhere near the Cape of Good Hope.”

“My father thinks he has got enough of the sea by this time.”

“I dare say.  Didn’t you ever feel a desire to go to sea, Frank?”

“No; not lately.”

“Nor I; Tim Bunker lent me the Red Corsair of the Caribbean Sea, just before that scrape, and I thought then that I should like to take a voyage.”

“My father will not let me read such books; and since he has told me what they are, and what their influence is, I don’t want to read them.”

“There’s Tony, with the red flag hoisted.”

The red flag had been agreed upon as the signal to stop the fleet, when the navigation was very hazardous, or impracticable.

“Cease-rowing!” said Charles.

Frank ordered his signal man to hoist the red in the flag boat.

“Can’t we go any farther than this?” asked Charles.

“I don’t know; we are not more than a mile above the bridge.”

“Here comes the Dip.”

“Well, Tony, what’s the matter?” said the commodore, as the tender approached.

“I haven’t found a clear channel yet.  The bed of the river is covered with rocks,” replied Tony, as the Dip came alongside the Zephyr.

“Then we must call this the head of navigation,” added Frank, with a laugh, though he was not a little disappointed to find the cruise up so soon.

“Perhaps not; there is water enough, but the twelve-oar boats are so long they can hardly dodge the rocks.  The Lily and the Dart can get through very well.”

“Have you sounded clear across?”

“I haven’t had time to examine very thoroughly yet.  If you let the boats lay off I will look farther.”

“Very well; I will go with you in the Dart,” replied the commodore, as he ordered up a white and a blue flag, which was the signal for the Dart to close up.

The signal was obeyed, and Frank followed the Dip.  After half an hour’s search, a clear channel was found close to the land; so close that the oars could not be used, and a party was sent on shore to drag them through with ropes.

The line was formed again, and the squadron slowly followed the Dip as she examined the river.  For the next mile there were no obstructions.

“Twelve o’clock!” shouted Fred Harper from the Bluebird.

“Dinner time, then,” replied Frank.  “Here is a beautiful grove, and we will land and dine.  Hoist the orange”-the signal to land.