The party rescued from the sinking tug-boat was very kindly received on board the steamer, but it was quite evident, even to the hopeful and enthusiastic Chap, that there was no intention of putting back for the Breakwater.
The boys had never been on an ocean steamer before, and would have been greatly delighted with their present experience had it not been for the feeling that every movement of the ponderous engine beneath them was taking them farther and farther from their homes.
It would be impossible for their friends to hear from them for at least two days, and the news that the tug-boat had gone out to sea, and never returned, would probably reach Boontown very soon.
All three were very much dejected when they thought of the misery and grief which the intelligence would cause in their families, and Phœnix seemed more downcast than either of the others.
“If father believes I’m drowned,” he said, “it’ll be just his way to go about grieving that he worked me too hard. I know I made him think that, but I didn’t do so much after all.”
“If my folks look at the thing in that light,” said Chap, “they’ll grieve that they didn’t get more out of me before I was drowned.”
“I don’t believe there’ll be as much mourning as you think,” said Phil. “Uncle will be on hand, and he’s been in so many scrapes, and pulled through them all, that he knows just about how things will turn up. I bet it won’t be half an hour after he hears the news before he thinks out the whole thing, and has made all your people see that it’s as clear as daylight that we’ve been carried out to sea, and picked up by some steamer, and that we’ll be heard from soon after she gets to her port. He’ll know that there wasn’t storm enough to wreck a good, stout tug-boat, and that something must have got out of order, so that she was carried out to sea.”
“If that one-masted schooner ever got in,” said Phœnix, “she’d let them know there was something wrong with us, for she must have seen or heard us blowing off steam.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Chap, “for before I turned into my sick-bed, the vessel was pretty well out of sight. We were going in opposite directions, as well as I could make out.”
“That was because she was sailing against the wind, and had to make long tacks,” said Phœnix.