CHAPTER XXIII.
MAX.
"Papa," said Max one morning, as they rose from the breakfast-table, "I feel as if a long walk would do me good.

I'd like to go farther down the beach than I ever have yet." "Very well, my son, you may go, only keep out of danger and come home in time for dinner," was the indulgent rejoinder, and the lad set off at once.
He presently fell in with two other lads a little older than himself, boarders in one of the near hotels, and casual acquaintances of his.

They joined him and the three rambled on together, whistling, talking, and occasionally stooping to pick up a shell, pebble, or bit of seaweed or sponge.
At length they reached an inlet that seemed to bar their farther progress, but looking about they spied an old boat stranded by yesterday's tide a little higher up the inlet, and were of course instantly seized with a great desire to get her into the water and set sail in her.
"Wouldn't it be jolly fun ?" cried Bob Masters, the eldest of the trio.
"Come on, boys." Max was a rather heedless fellow, and never stopping to consider the right or wrong of the thing, or whether he were running into danger or not, went with the others.
They found the boat, as they thought, in fair condition; there were two oars in her, and both Max and John Cox, the other lad, thought they knew pretty well how to use them, while Masters was sure he could steer.
With a good deal of exertion they set the little craft afloat; then climbing in they pushed boldly out into deep water and bore down toward the ocean.
Max had thought they were only going to cross to the farther side of the inlet and continue their walk; but almost before he knew it, they were out upon the sea, and the boat was rocking upon the waves in a way that seemed to him decidedly alarming.
"Boys," he said, "let's put back as fast as we can.

We don't know anything about managing a boat out here, and see how big the waves are!" "That's because the tide's coming in," laughed Masters, "so if we should upset it'll wash us ashore." "I don't know," said Max, "I'd rather not risk it; there's the undertow to carry us out again." "Oh, you're a coward!" sneered Cox.
"I'm not going to turn back yet," said Masters; "so stick to your oar, Raymond, and if the sight of the big waves frightens you, just turn your back to 'em." At that moment a hail came from a fishing-smack not far away.

"Halloo! boys, you'd better put back as fast as you can; that boat's not safe, especially in the hands of such green-horns as you." At the same moment a big incoming wave washed over them, carrying away their hats and Max's coat, which he had pulled off when taking the oar.
Masters and Cox were now sufficiently frightened to be willing to turn back; they made the attempt at once, but found it far more difficult than they had anticipated.