The girls were too courageous to lose spirit. Phoebe, who had been so ill when last her brother had seen her, was getting plump again. She had marvelously improved during the brief weeks of her sojourn at sea.
Altogether, both Philip Morgan and George Belding had become quite happy and content when the Colodia finally signaled the Redbird good-bye and turned her prow north once more. She had been ordered to follow the captured raider into Hampton Roads, there to refit.
Nevertheless, as America’s activities in the war—especially her naval activities—were increasing rather than diminishing, the Navy Boys did not expect to be idle, even if the Colodia was laid up for a while.
“No rest for the wicked,” quoted Al Torrance, wagging his head.
“Oi, oi!” cried Ikey. “You know you are not looking for a rest, Torry.”
“Seems to me,” Belding said, “that it will be rather nice to walk on the streets once more.”
“Bet we’ll all be land-sick when we get ashore,” grinned Frenchy Donahue. “How ’bout it, Whistler?”
Whistler said, thoughtfully: “But wouldn’t it be nice if we could have had our leave ashore at Bahia, with the girls?”
“Wow, wow!” shouted the Irish lad.
“He’s hopeless,” groaned Ikey Rosenmeyer. “He is even worse than Frenchy ever was. Why, he can’t keep his mind off those girls at all!”