The three young men appeared to be about eighteen or twenty years old. They were dressed in yachting costume, and a person of experience in the ways of the world would at once have set them down as fast young men. They were of the reckless order, swaggering, defiant, boisterous. If a lady had seen them together, she would have taken the other side of the street. Captain Gildrock was coming down the wharf, to look after the embarkation of the sailing-class. Matt Randolph presented Spickles to the principal, and left the chief of the party to introduce his companions. "You are the boss of this concern, I take it, Captain Gilthead," said Spickles, suddenly putting on his usual style, and in a sort of patronizing tone, as if the principal had been a country schoolmaster, who ought to consider himself honored by being noticed by a young gentleman from the metropolis. In fact, Captain Spickles, as his companions on board of the La Motte called him, was determined to "take him down" a little. The visitor, after what Matt had said to him about the discipline of the institution, regarded him with a sort of instinctive hatred. He did not like any one who disciplined young men. Principals, professors, schoolmasters, were monsters, ogres, tyrants, whose only mission in the world was to tease, torture, and torment young fellows like himself. Captain Gildrock looked at him with a puzzled expression on his dignified face; though the usual smile when he was in repose, played about his mouth. He read the young man almost at the first glance; and if he had considered the popinjay worthy of his steel, he would have prepared for a skirmish of words with him. "I said 'Captain Gildrock,'" interposed Matt, with emphasis enough to clear himself; for he saw that the fellow had purposely miscalled the name. "Excuse me, Captain Goldblock." "Certainly, Mr. Spittle," added the principal blandly. "Mr. Spickles, if you please," interposed the visitor, who did not at all relish being paid off in his own coin. "Precisely so, Mr. Spiddles," laughed the principal; while Matt had to turn away to hide his choking laugh. "My name is Spickles, Captain Goldblock." "Ah, indeed, Mr. Skiggles! Permit me to add that mine is Gildrock." "Well, Captain Gildrock"-- "Well, Mr. Spickles"-- "I suppose you are the boss of this concern. Will you show it up?" "I am the principal of this institution." "Possibly I shall be able to entertain these visitors alone, Randolph, and you may go on board with your ship's company," said Captain Gildrock, a little later, while he was waiting for the young gentleman from New York to study up his next question. Matt had twelve students to instruct in the art of sailing a boat, and he directed them to take their places in the two boats that were waiting for them. "Well, boss, we are ready to see what you have got to show," said Spickles.