This was his theory. Nothing would have pleased the young Argonaut more than to be picked up by a passing sailing-vessel; and for this reason, he was morally certain that, sooner or later, such would be the case. Why he chose to speak so doubtfully about it, is best known to himself. Probably the sharp young reader can guess.
“Or, they might send for us from home; but I can’t see anybody coming along in a life-boat,” Will said, giving his particular theory.
“Haven’t any life-boat to send; and I guess they won’t telegraph for one!” Steve exclaimed rudely.
“Oh, you mean fellow!” Jim broke in, apostrophizing unpoetic Stephen. “You made me come, and you’ve got to get me home!”
“The truth is, we may as well prepare for the worst!” George said, deliberately and with seeming sincerity. But the grin on his face belied his words. He was only waiting for a fit time to pronounce his opinion—the most extravagant of all.
“George, how long could a fellow live on the water without any food?” Steve inquired, not at all awed by George’s lugubrious asseveration.
“Oh, how long?” said George, so pleased to have an opportunity of drawing on his extensive and miscellaneous reading that he lost track of his own pet theory. “Well, boys, a shipwrecked sailor once lived twenty-two days without food; but he was a fat old fellow—a captain, I think he was. Now, in our case—”
“Don’t talk nonsense, George;” Will interrupted at this point. “We are not going to experiment in that way; for on the lake,” with significant emphasis, “we shall not have a chance to see how long we can live without food, as it’s either saving or drowning with us. Look at those clouds again. It will rain in a few minutes. But cheer up! I think we shall be safe at home within three hours; and then this storm will be an episode in our lives as long as we live. If we could only let the folks on shore know, they’d soon come along.”
“Yes, if we could open up communication with the people at home!” Charley sighed.