And so, his pride humbled, and too mortified to stand by his own better judgment, Captain Sam reluctantly yielded to their importunities, and pointed the nose of the _Nancy Jane_ in toward the opening amid the rocks. “It can’t be done,” he said, doggedly, “but if you say that I am not trying to do my duty as a sworn officer of the town, I’ll just show you. Only don’t blame me if we’re hung up here hard and fast for twelve hours.” The _Nancy Jane_, like a horse that is being driven into danger that it somehow apprehends, seemed almost intelligent in its reluctance to enter the stretch of reef-strewn water. It bumped and scraped its way from one rock to another, balked at this ledge and that, and, finally, after an extra amount of pushing and pulling by the three men, jammed itself fast on a reef studded with barnacles and snail-shells, and refused to budge one way or another. In vain they tried to bulldoze and cajole, to push and to pull, to plead with and to denounce the obstinate _Nancy Jane_. Stolid and deaf alike to entreaty and expostulation, the boat squatted down upon the reef like an ugly fat duck, comfortably disposed for the night and refusing to be disturbed. “I told you so!” roared the captain, now aroused to his rights as skipper, and finding himself thus exasperatingly vindicated as to the impassability of the channel. “We’re hung up fast for the night, for the next twelve hours, till next flood. Then, if Lem Cobb is living in his fishing-shack on Spring Island, and will lend us a hand and a few pieces of joist to pry with, mebbe we’ll get off, and mebbe we won’t.” The colonel and the squire boiled inwardly; but as it was apparent they had only themselves to blame, they felt it useless to engage in discussion with the indignant captain. So they wisely remained silent, and left him to consume his wrath alone. “Well,” he said, finally, “I for one am curious to see just where those young rascals are; and if you’re of the same mind you can satisfy your curiosity by coming ashore with me.” And the captain waded off to the rocks of Spring Island and clambered up the bank, closely followed by the colonel and the squire. “There they go, slipping along as slick as eels,” exclaimed the captain, as he and his panting companions achieved the ascent of the highest bit of rock on Spring Island and looked down the bay. “They’re off down among the islands,” he continued, “and here we stand like natural-born idiots and bite our fingers. If ever I get into a mess like this again, I’ll resign my office of constable and hire out to Noddy Perkins for a clam-digger.” But the colonel and the squire, too angry and chagrined for words, stayed not to listen to the captain’s denunciation.