Dory said nothing; for he saw that the game was not the same that he had played early in the morning. There was an element in the contest which had not entered into that between the Goldwing and the Missisquoi; and he thought Pearl was very stupid not to see it. He did not point it out, or even hint at it. He hoped and expected that the interference of the Sylph would restore the schooner to him; and that was all he cared for, though he was quite willing that Peppers should capture and take his prisoner to Plattsburgh. The steam-yacht started her screw again, and went ahead. In the Gut she came about, and passed between the buoys again. The schooner was almost up with the red buoy when the Sylph passed it, and again the man with the gruff voice hailed the boat. At this moment Pearl tacked, and stood to the south-west. "I guess she will get tired of this game before a great while," said Pearl, elated with the success of his movements. "She had better give it up, and go about her business." When the Sylph had passed the buoys, she put her head to the south, and ran down close to the shoal-water. Pearl was so delighted that he was becoming reckless, and he held on to his course until he came within a hundred feet of the steamer. Once more she hailed the boat. "Is Theodore Dornwood on board of that boat?" shouted the man with the gruff voice. "If you answer, Dory Dornwood, I'll pitch you overboard!" exclaimed the skipper savagely. Dory did not answer: he had no intention of doing so before Pearl used his threatening expression. He was not on the best of terms with his uncle; and he did not care to have any thing to do with him, or even to say to him. There seemed to be a dozen persons on board of the Sylph. But she was a large craft for a steam-yacht, and doubtless some of them were the guests of the owner. "That will do nicely," said Pearl, as he came about, and let off his sheets again. "The steamer has my permission to go through the channel again. This is better than a game of checkers." To Dory it was getting rather monotonous. But he did not believe that the people on board of the Sylph would be willing to play at this game much longer. The man with the gruff voice had indicated in his tones, the last time he hailed the boat, that he was becoming impatient at the failure of the Goldwing to answer him. Dory felt like one who stands between two fires, and he was sure to be hit by one of them. He was in the frying-pan now, and he did not at all like the idea of being compelled to jump into the fire by the Sylph. He did not like his uncle, her owner; and he did not care to be redeemed from his present unpleasant position by him.