The time went by slowly, each hour seeming an age. Nobody felt like eating, and nothing was said about supper until nearly nine o'clock, when Dora opened the cabin door and called Dick:
"We thought we would get to shore before eating," she said. "How much longer will we be out, do you think?"
"There is no telling, Dora," he replied evasively.
"No telling? Doesn't Captain Jerry know where we are?"
"Hardly. You see it is so dark, and we can't make any headway with the mast gone."
"How stupid of me! I should have known that. Shall we try to fix up some supper?"
"You might pass some sandwiches. But, no, we had better come down, one at a time," returned Dick.
This suggestion was carried out, Captain Jerry being the last to go down, leaving the wheel in the hands of Dick and Tom.
"Don't ye let it git away from ye," was his caution. "If ye do it will be good-by, 'Liza Jane, an' all of us goin' slam bang to Davy Jones' locker!"
From old Jerry the girls learned that they would probably have to remain on the yacht all night.