"
"No fear of that," answered James, confidently, still continuing to
throw the stones; "I can come within a hair's-breadth of her, and not
touch her. Now, see."
And, before Frank could speak, away flew a large stone, with great
force, and, crashing through the mainsail of the little vessel, broke
both masts and the bowsprit short off.
"There," exclaimed Frank, "I was afraid you would do that."
James did not appear to be in the least sorry for it, but he skipped
up the bank, shouting, in an insulting tone,
"There's your boat, old beeswax. When do you expect her in port?"
Frank did not answer, but drew what remained of the schooner to the
shore, and, taking it under his arm, started for his shop, saying,
"Now, that's a nice cousin for a fellow to have. I'll do my best to
treat him respectfully while he stays, but I shall not be sorry when
the time comes to bid him good-by."
And that time was not far distant. James often complained to his
mother that Frank was a "low-minded, mean fellow," and urged an
immediate departure.
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