“They’ve certainly got something up their sleeve regarding us,” said Jack, when he and Ralph were telling the others what the mate had said.
“Well, it doesn’t look as if we can do anything about getting away to-night,” said Fred. “I just had a chance to talk to Ira Small, and he said it wouldn’t be any use—that we’re too far out on the Atlantic and that the storm is coming up fast.”
“I wonder what they’ll do with the motor boat if the storm gets very heavy!” cried Ralph. “Maybe they’ll cut it adrift!”
“They won’t want to throw away such a valuable craft unless it becomes absolutely necessary,” returned Jack. “I think those fellows are out for every dollar they can get—their robbing us proves it!”
By the time the boys went to supper the wind was blowing strongly and the Hildegarde was pitching and tossing on the broad bosom of the Atlantic.
“It’s goin’ to be a real storm, to my way o’ thinkin’,” said Ira Small, when he had a chance to speak to the lads. “You kin be thankful you’re not out in it in your motor boat. That craft couldn’t make much headway in sech a sea as the wind is kickin’ up.”
“Have they done anything about the motor boat?” questioned Ralph.
“Yes, they’ve covered her with a tarpaulin and hitched her on with a cable that’s twice as long and three times as strong as the first one was. I reckon they’re goin’ to save her if they possibly kin, no matter how hard it blows.”
“Where do you think we are, Small?”