"This is positively the worst yet!" groaned Roger. "The fellows who would do such a thing ought to be—be hanged! And they haven't left us a thing!"
"Let us separate and see if we can sight the bark," said the captain, and this was done, one party going to the upper end of the island and the other to the lower. But not a trace of the missing vessel was to be seen.
It was a decidedly sober party that gathered on the sands two hours later to discuss the situation and decide upon what was to be done. Here they were, marooned on a deserted island, with no food and but little shelter, and with only two pistols and a shotgun between them. It was certainly not a situation to be envied.
"I used to think, when I was a small boy, that I'd like to play Robinson Crusoe," remarked Roger. "But I've changed my mind, and I'd much rather be back on the ship."
"Humph! If you are going to talk that way, what will you say if we have to stay here weeks, or months, or maybe years?" asked Phil.
"Gracious!" burst out Dave. "You don't think we'll have to stay here years, do you?"
"We'll have to stay until we can git away," was the sage remark of Billy Dill. "Captain, are we in the track o' any ships?"
Captain Marshall shook his head slowly.
"I don't think we are. That storm blew us far out of our course. I doubt if a ship comes this way once in three months."
"There, what did I tell you!" cried Phil. "But don't think I want to stay," he added, quickly. "I am just as anxious to get away as any one, and anxious to regain my father's ship, too. Why, to lose her would mean a serious loss to my father!"