"Well, if he has to run out into the Atlantic, he may not be back for ten days."
"Ten days!" exclaimed Wade. "If we see him in a month, we need to think we're lucky."
Bang!
"That's a pleasant sound for us, isn't it, now?" Kit demanded,—"expecting every shot will lose us the schooner, and leave us two thousand miles from home on a more than barren coast!"
"I shall look for 'The Curlew' in ten days," Raed remarked. "And I don't think we had better leave here, to go off any great distance, till we feel sure she's not coming back for us. If she's not back in two weeks, I shall think we have got to shirk for ourselves."
"But how in the world are we to live two weeks here!" Wade exclaimed.
"Live by our wits," Kit observed.
"Looks as if we should have to give up coffee," Raed said, trying to get a laugh going.
"Why, I'm hungry now!" Wade cried out; "but I don't see anything to eat but ice and rocks!"
"It's half-past eleven," Kit announced, looking at his watch. "Seriously, what do you expect we can get hold of for grub, Raed?"