“I don’t know. Soon, I guess. Now we’re going to play at soldiers, camping out, and we’ll have breakfast in our tent. Won’t that be fun, Jackie?”
“Indeed it will. Hurry up, Tom!”
Tom smiled sadly, as he collected some food and water from where the stores had been put. And yet, in a way he was glad he had this little boy in charge now, for it kept him from brooding over his own troubles.
“I don’t see how I’m ever going to rescue dad and mother when I’m wrecked myself,” reflected Tom. “But it’s too soon to give up yet,” and he closed his teeth grimly, to keep back the tears that wanted to come.
[CHAPTER XIII]
UNDER SAIL
“Now, Jackie, what will you have?” asked Tom briskly, as he sat under the canvas shelter with the little lad. “Will you have ice cream, or bread and milk, or a boiled egg or some cut-up pineapple, or cup custard, or any of those things for your breakfast?”
“Oh, Tom, have you really got ’em?” asked the child eagerly.
“Why, yes, of course. We always have those things on wrecks—make-believe, I mean,” added Tom quickly.