Chapter IX
DEEP WATER
The ebb tide soon caught the Mary Jane in the suck of its swift current and the boat rushed seaward. Presently she struck the breakers and floundering through them like a wounded duck, commenced to rise and fall on the rhythmic ground swell.
Dorothy came out of the cabin rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“You didn’t take much of a rest,” said Bill from his place at the wheel.
She yawned and caught at the cabin roof to steady herself.
“Mary Jane’s gallop through the breakers woke me up. Sleeping on a hard floor isn’t all it’s cracked up to be—and the cabin was awfully stuffy.”
“Are you as good a sailor as you are a sport?”
“I don’t know much about this deep water stuff, but I’ve never been seasick. Thought I might be if I stayed in there any longer, though.”
“Feel badly now?”
“No, this fresh air is what I needed. Is that the lightship dead ahead? I just caught the glow.”