“We sure are,” grumbled Neale. “Heading right with the wind. If we tried to shift our course the wind would like enough roll us over and over like a barrel.”
“Isn’t it fortunate the wind is heading us toward St. Sergius, then,” observed Agnes.
“Oh, shoot!” ejaculated Neale. “Do you think even the elements play in our favor, Aggie Kenway? According to the needle of this compass we are heading due east, and St. Sergius is some distance behind us.”
“Oh!” gasped Agnes and Ruth in unison.
“Now, Ruth,” said Mr. Howbridge sternly, “I expect you girls to do your share. You look out for the children in there. If Agnes insists on being out here she can come and hold this pry-bar. I believe we’ve got to block up the engine at this corner before she will make an even stroke. I could see that she jarred when we started, and I should have insisted upon having her jacked up then.”
Agnes came very meekly and did his bidding. Neale stuck to the wheel, or the craft would have wobbled much worse than she did. Luke aided the lawyer at the cranky engine.
Ruth tried to be cheerful with Tess and Dot. But both little girls had already gained the impression that they were in danger. Tess asked seriously:
“Don’t you suppose, Ruthie, that it would be a good thing if we said our prayers, even if it isn’t bedtime?”
But Dot’s mind ran upon more mundane things. She remarked after a little silence:
“I wonder if Sammy Pinkney was here, if he would feel much like being a pirate on this wiggly boat?”