“Did Mr. Sheldon and his daughter go?” asked Bob eagerly.
“They did, son. I helped them stock their boat, which was one of the small ones. It was No. 7, but it was a good craft, and seaworthy. They went in that.”
“And you didn’t go?” asked Ned.
“No. Mr. Sheldon wanted me to, but I saw that he had a couple of good sailors in his boat, and I said I’d take my chance staying on the old Hassen. I’m glad now that I did. I wanted more under my feet in a storm at sea than the inch planking of a small boat. So I stayed—I wish the others had, too,” he added in rather gloomy tones.
“Don’t—don’t you think my uncle has any chance?” Bob asked.
“Yes, son, a chance—a bare chance. I didn’t think so until last evening, but I did then.”
“Why then?” asked Jerry curiously.
“Because I saw him again—he and his daughter in the small boat!” was the unexpected answer.
“You saw them?” cried Bob. “Where?”