The man shouted something to his companion and then seized the halyards, and the sloop drove on again, furiously, with an increased spread of canvas, while Carroll stood holding on by the coaming until the boat dropped back.
"I'll leave you to it," he told the new helmsman, "It's twenty-four hours since I've had more than a bite or two of food, and some weeks since I had a decent meal."
"You look it. Been up against it somewhere?"
Carroll, without replying, crawled below and managed to light the stove and make a kettleful of tea. He drank a good deal of it, and nearly emptied the remaining small meat can, which he presently held out for the helmsman's inspection, standing beneath the hatch.
"There's some tea left, but this is all there is to eat on board the craft," he said. "You're hired to take her to Vancouver—you'd better get there as quick as you can."
The bronzed helmsman nodded.
"She won't be long on the way if the mast holds up."
"Have you seen any papers lately?" Carroll inquired. "I've been up in the bush and I'm interested in the Clermont Mine. It looked as if there might be some changes in the company's prospects when I went away."
"I noticed a bit about it in the Colonist a while back. The company sold out to another concern, or amalgamated with it; I don't remember which."
Carroll was not astonished. The news implied that he must be prepared to face a more or less serious financial reverse, and it struck him as a fitting climax to his misadventures.