Bobby wasted no time, but went ahead, glancing about him meanwhile apprehensively. Any moment he expected to see Captain Garrish walk out from the shadows and nab them.
“If we can make the captain think we’re harmless,” he said to Fred, “he may stop watching us so closely and we’ll have our chance. I don’t know yet how we’re going to manage it, but we’re going to escape from this old tub somehow! We’ve got to! Our folks must be crazy with fright.”
“All right, I get you,” returned Fred. “You’re afraid my red-headed temper will start a row somewhere and spoil our chances to get away. But you needn’t worry, I’ll keep the lid on tight.”
“Fine,” gasped Bobby, as a sudden lunge of the ship picked up a huge wave and both of them were covered with icy spray. “We’ll have to find some way to pass the tip on to Billy and Mouser. They’re apt to go off the handle any time when the captain gets rough.”
“We’ll manage somehow,” said Fred between chattering teeth. “Say, but that old ocean is getting chilly. Hate to be thrown overboard into that ice water. Where do you suppose we are, Bobby?”
“Don’t know,” said Bobby, finding that he also was shivering. “Getting pretty far up north, I guess. Shouldn’t wonder but we’ll run across some icebergs if we don’t get out of this mess pretty soon.”
“Always wanted to see icebergs,” said Fred.
“Funny I don’t seem to care much about ’em any more.”
“It would be funnier if you did,” retorted Bobby, and then another sharp twist of the ship threatened their balance and drenched them through with icy water.
When they had once more regained their footing on the slippery, rolling deck, Bobby pressed close to Fred, grasping his arm urgently.