As the anchor held one half the boat, it furnished a mark to tell where the contents lay; and while Fred and Henry Griffin were towing back the other half, the rest grappled for and brought up the corn, guns, and sugar, not much of which was dissolved.
It was a bitter disappointment to Charlie and John, but they bore it manfully, and went up to Captain Rhines’s to put on dry clothes and spend the night, Fred walking along with them, striving to administer consolation.
“I wouldn’t feel so bad about it, Charlie,” said he; “we’ve got the other half; why couldn’t you fasten them together again?”
“So you could, Charlie,” said John, “and she would be as good as ever.”
“But what would she look like? No, I never want to touch her again; let her go; but I know one thing, that is, if I live long enough, I’ll build a boat that will sail as well as she did, and not split in two either.”
Uncle Isaac, hearing of the shipwreck, came in to Captain Rhines’s in the evening to see and comfort the boys.
“It’s not altogether the loss of the boat makes me feel so bad, Uncle Isaac,” said Charlie.
“I’m sure I don’t see what else you have to feel bad about.”