In good time the long-boat came within hailing distance.
“Hollo there, you lubbers!” a voice bellowed. “You’re a pretty lot of fellers, ain’t you?”
“Why didn’t he say, ‘Ship, ahoy!’ or ‘Boat, ahoy!’” Marmaduke murmured.
“You mean, why didn’t he say, ‘Punters, ahoy!’” Steve corrected.
George felt it incumbent on him to make some reply, so he called back feebly, “All right!”
Each boy now began to “feel like an idiot,” as Steve put it. Each one experienced the feeling that any boy, caught in a similar predicament, would experience. The writer has suffered in that way, and consequently knows how to pity those miserable boys.
The long-boat was soon alongside. It contained several men,—among them, Will’s and Jim’s father, overjoyed at this happy meeting,—and the sailor whom Steve had questioned concerning the weather appeared to be leader.
The rescue came about in this way: When the storm was seen approaching, the boys were found to be missing, and inquiries for them were at once instituted. For some time these were fruitless; but at length Mr. Lawrence, guessing shrewdly that they would be on the water at such a time as this, went down to the wharf, and came upon and interrogated the old sailor. “Well,” said the latter, “one of ’em asked me about the weather, and I expect they all went off on the lake, but I don’t know; I saw ’em poking around for a boat, I guess it was, and then I went into the hold of the schooner, and didn’t see ’em any more. We can overhaul them, Sir, but it will be a long and hard pull.”
This clue was sufficient; a good glass was procured, and the boys were descried far out on the lake. Then a boat was manned in hot haste, and put off to the rescue.
“Well, younkers,” said the old sailor, “you must hurry up, for there’s no time to be idled away.” Then, with a sportive wink, (which the gloom made invisible) he added, “I guess you fellers will believe me next time I warn you to look out for blows.”