But the manager of the signal had not shouted, and when the voices of the others finally died away in a discordant murmur, he said snappishly, “You needn’t yell like an hobomokko; this flag will guide them to us.”
“Yes; but it’s better to yell,” Steve panted. “In fact, I couldn’t help it!”
“I wish we could stop this punt till they come up with us,” Will said, “for we are drifting farther from them all the time,” sighing to hear the water plunk against the punt with remorseless and dreary monotony.
“Well, we can’t anchor; but they’re rowing hard and coming fast,” Charles replied.
“Will, it’s your fault that we came; you proposed it;” Jim said.
“That may be, Jim,” the standard-bearer replied; “but I think we all had a hand in it—except, of course, you. But I am the one who has saved you, and saved us all. This signal of distress has been sighted, and then immediately they made ready to rescue us,” and he looked triumphantly at the boys, defying a denial.
“Oh, yes; I know it’s all right; I ain’t afraid;” Jim said quickly.
Stephen spoke next. “How everybody will laugh at us!” he said, elaborating a dolorous sigh and putting on a hideous grimace.
Now that succor was at hand, this thought began to depress his mind.
The approaching long-boat was a fascinating sight to all, to Marmaduke especially. As it drew nearer, the latter suddenly and most unwarrantably struck the improvised flag and stuffed it into Stephen’s coat-pocket. Had he become ashamed of it? Could he be so base? No! no! but it was not needed now!