Tim cooled off in a moment, made a surly apology for his rudeness, and the Zephyr continued on her course.

CHAPTER IV.

The fraternal hug.

The incident which had just occurred gave Frank considerable uneasiness.  Tim was naturally quarrelsome, and his former mode of life had done nothing to improve his disposition.  He had never been taught that self-restraint is necessary to preserve social harmony.  If anything did not suit him, he was not disposed to argue the matter in a conciliatory manner, but to right his wrongs, whether real or imaginary, by physical force.  In this manner he had obtained his reputation as a “good fighter.”

Frank began to fear that Tim had come into the club without a proper understanding of its duties and requirements.  Though he had, with an ill grace, apologized for his conduct, he seemed to feel no compunction on account of it; but, on the contrary, he every moment grew more overbearing and insolent.  He could not speak to his companions in a gentlemanly manner, as they had been accustomed to be addressed.  He was course, rude, and vulgar; and the members, who had received him among them in the best spirit possible, began to feel some repugnance towards him.

But what could be expected of him in so short a time?  They had no reason to believe that a boy who had always been a desperado would suddenly become a gentle and kind-hearted person.  His nature wanted refining, and such a work could not be done in a moment.  These reflections came to Frank’s relief, when he had become well-nigh discouraged at the idea of reforming Tim—­discouraged more by thinking of the vast chasm that yawned between what he was and what he ought to be.  Like the pendulum in the story, he was crowding the work of months and years into a single instant.  A little sober thought in the proper direction set him right.

The Butterfly was darting out of “Weston Bay” as they approached.

“Cease—­rowing!” said Frank.  “Now, my lads, let us give them three rousing cheers.  All up!  One!”

“Hurrah!”

“Two.”

“Hurrah!”

“Three.”

“Hurrah!”

And then the Zephyrs clapped their hands, long and loudly, and this was the greeting which the old club gave to the new one.  The compliment was heartily returned by the Butterfly, and then the cheers were repeated again and again.  Every member seemed to glow with kindly feeling towards the others.  Even Tim Bunker for the time laid aside his morose look, and joined in the expression of good will with as much zeal as his companions.

“Now man your oars, Zephyrs,” said Frank.

“What ye going to do now?” asked Tim, as he grasped his oar with the others.

“You shall know in due time,” replied the coxswain.

Here was another thing which Tim had yet to learn—­not to ask questions of the commander.  It was a part of the discipline of the club to obey without stopping to argue the point.  Captain Sedley himself had suggested this idea, and it had been thoroughly carried out on board the Zephyr.  It was an established principle that “the coxswain knew what he was about,” and that he alone was responsible for the guidance and the safety of the boat.