“So,” retorted Bobby dryly, “I’ve noticed!” And then, with a thrill of excitement, he glanced out of a porthole and saw that it was dark.
CHAPTER XIX
ON ANGRY WATERS
Ten o’clock that night, and the boys were stealing silently to the spot where the longboat swung on creaking davits, rising and falling with the rise and fall of the ship.
At last they were together, teeth chattering with mingled excitement and cold, coat collars turned far up about their ears and caps pulled down to meet them. They had appropriated all the warm clothing they could find in the ship’s lockers.
They had learned in the course of their work on deck how to lower the boats and raise them, and, with scarcely a word uttered between them, they set to work.
In spite of the pressing need for haste and the biting cold that seemed to search out their very marrow, they accomplished the feat neatly, the boat landing with scarcely a splash in the water.
Once voices sounded close to them and they crouched close in the shadows of the deck-house till the voices passed on.
Then, recognizing more than ever the need for haste, they slid, with as little noise as possible, into the boat and cast her loose from the schooner.
As they moved away, out into the darkness, adrift at last, they heard a sudden exclamation, a quick call, and knew that the absence of the longboat had been discovered.