They stood there on the rocks, staring seaward. Not a craft was in sight save the drifting Isobel. It was a lonely stretch of water, with perhaps half a dozen small islands in sight. The lost craft might be drifting toward another strand, or it might pass right out between the islands and go to sea. For Neale’s chart portrayed the fact that beyond this group of the Tortugas, the islands where the pirates used to careen their schooners and scrape their hulls of barnacles, was the tropical Atlantic Ocean.
It was a hopeless group indeed on Palm Island. Perhaps more hopeless and unhappy than the two little girls themselves who were the object of so much solicitude. It was true that Dot had cried a little, but she had the Alice-doll with her, and was soon comforted. Tess, from her very nature, was likely to consider the situation more interesting than threatening.
Here was a chance for Tess to take the lead; and she certainly loved to “boss.” Dot was quite ready to sit down and allow her older sister to arrange matters. That was by far the easier way. Then, if things went wrong, there was always Tess to be blamed.
The older sister assumed responsibility with the joy of an oyster imbibing sea-water. She immediately became possessed of the idea that she really might do something to aid in their difficulty. They were afloat on rather a big ocean, as far as she could see, and without means of propelling the Isobel in any way the current did not go; nevertheless, Tess took the wheel, as she had seen Mr. Howbridge and the boys do, and proceeded to “steer” the motor-boat on her course.
“Why don’t you turn it around and make it run back to Plam Island again?” Dot wanted to know with what might have been considered sarcasm from an older person.
“Now, you know very well that the engine isn’t running,” said Tess, “And so the propellers aren’t making any splatter in the water. So we could not make her go back to the island. The tide will carry us—carry us——”
“Well, where’s it going to carry us?” Dot demanded, a good deal more efficient as a question-asker than a question-answerer.
“Now, Dorothy Kenway!” exclaimed Tess, very self-important, “I wish you would not sit there and ask such things. I am no better acquainted around here than you are.”
“There’s an island,” said Dot, standing up to look ahead.
“Yes, I see there is. Perhaps this boat wants to go there. I am sure I would just as lief be on land as out here in this boat.”