“Yes,” I cried; “there’s a beautiful breeze on, and we’ve left the beaten enemy behind, and—”
Flip-flip-flap-flap-flop!
The wind had ceased as suddenly as it had come on.
“Well, sir,” said Bob Hampton, a short time later, “I never ’spected to see you get to be skipper dooring this voyage.”
“Oh, don’t talk nonsense, Bob,” I cried. “Look—they’re coming on again as fast as they can row.”
The old sailor shaded his eyes and looked aft at the two boats, which the men were tugging along with all their might, taking advantage of our being becalmed to try and overtake us and renew their attempt.
“Yes, there they are, bless ’em!” cried Bob. “Well, sir, as skipper o’ this here ship, with all the ’sponsibility depending on you, o’ course you know what to do.”
“No, I don’t, Bob,” I cried. “How can a boy like I am know how to manage a full-rigged ship?”
“Tchah! You’ve been to sea times enough, and a ship’s on’y a yacht growed up. Besides, there’s no navigating wanted now as there’s no wind.”
“But the boats!” I cried. “Look at the boats.”