"It won't be so bad," said Jess, trying her best to feel that this was only an exciting adventure, but failing utterly.
"I've got a couple of old blankets tucked away somewhere and they'll keep you warm. Now the wind's gone down, there's nothing to worry about," Larry assured her, with far more cheerfulness than he felt.
"But our mothers will worry," Margy objected.
"Well, of course, they'll wonder where we are," said Fred. "But I guess they can figure out that if Larry and his boat don't come back, we're somewhere all together. Here's a blanket, Polly; better wrap up."
The blanket smelled of oil, for it had been crammed into a small cupboard close to the engine, but its extra warmth was very welcome. The fog was cold and damp, and, deprived of the sun, the sea seemed cold and depressing.
Polly made Jess and Margy sit down close together and wrapped them in one fold. Then she twisted herself in beside them and Fred pulled the end over her. They were wrapped snugly, "like caramels," Jess said.
"Try to go to sleep," Larry advised. "I'm sorry there isn't room to stretch out, but I guess you can manage forty winks the way you are."
Margy was sure she could never sleep in her cramped position, but before long the three heads were nodding and the girls slept as serenely as though they had been in their comfortable beds at home. Ward and Artie, on the floor, pillowed their heads against their sisters' knees and slept also, but Fred sat beside Larry and watched.
When Polly awoke with a start, several hours later, she looked up into a sky thickly spangled with stars. The fog had lifted and the boat was drifting before a stiff breeze. As soon as her eyes became accustomed to the inky blackness, she made out two figures sitting erect and silent.
"Is that you, Fred?" she called softly. "Where—where are we?"