The cloud approached nearer and at last the outline of a ship, appearing very small at that distance, could be made out. It was headed on a course that would bring it almost directly in the path of the smaller boat.
As the hull of the vessel grew larger by its approach, occasional cheers broke from the lips of those in the little craft. So far it was impossible to tell whether the castaways had been sighted or not; but as the big ship neared them—now scarcely more than a mile away—the shrill blast of the steamer’s whistle split the air. The small boat with its passengers had been discovered. The passengers raised another cheer.
Rapidly the large vessel bore down on them, and the little craft bobbed swiftly toward it. At last they came alongside.
“Ladies first!” cried the captain of the Yucatan.
Shirley and Mabel were the first over the rail, where they stood awaiting the arrival of the others.
Mr. Willing, Colonel Ashton and Dick were the last to go aboard, and no sooner were the refugees all on deck than the big vessel resumed her course. The captain motioned them to his cabin.
The ship upon which they now found themselves proved to be the Reliance, with a cargo of freight from New Orleans for Colon.
This the captain explained when he learned where the erstwhile refugees were bound.
“We can’t offer you the same accommodations you had aboard the Yucatan,” he said, “but you are welcome to the best we have.”
“And we are indeed glad to get it, captain,” Shirley spoke up.