CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
IN WHICH A NOTABLE TRIPLE ALLIANCE IS RENEWED.
The six short weeks of holiday darted away only too quickly.
Dick, in the whirl of family life, a hero to his sisters, and a caution to his young brothers, forgot all the troubles of the term, and all its disappointments, all about the "Select Sociables," and all about Tom White's boat, in one glorious burst of holiday freedom.
He even forgot about his irregular verbs; and the good resolutions with which he had returned, he left packed up in his trunk until the time came to take them back to Templeton.
Still, it wasn't a bad time, on the whole, for Dick.

Like some small boat that gets out of the rushing tide for a little into some quiet creek, he had time to overhaul himself and pull himself together, ready for another voyage.

He was able, in the home harbour, to take some little fresh ballast on board and to rearrange what he at present had.
He was able to stow away some of his useless tackle and bale out some of the water he had shipped in the last few rapids.

Altogether, though Dick was not exactly a boy given to self-examination, or self- dedication, and although he would have scouted the notion that he was going in for being a reformed character, his little cruise in calm water did him good, and steadied him for his next venture on the tide, when the time should come.
It was not so with George Heathcote.

He was a craft of flimsier build than his leader, and the tide had gone harder with him.