CHAPTER XVIII
As I came over the side of the yacht, Dorothy was at the rail and in a moment was in my arms. “Thank God! Thank God! you are back,” she murmured. “You are back and the awful waiting is over, but how many wives and sweethearts will wait all the rest of their lives!”
Tom was but a moment behind his sister. “Do you mean to say that every boat, without exception, has gone?” he questioned.
“Every one within my range of vision. Between eighty and ninety in all,” I answered.
“Good God! What a catastrophe,” said Tom dazedly. “I can’t realize it.”
My little yacht was still alongside, and the skipper now hailed us. “Mr. Orrington, sir, could somebody else take our boat in, and could we go with you? I think, sir, we’d feel easier, if we could go with you.”
There was something to do. In a few minutes an exchange had been made, and my crew was on the larger yacht. As they came over the rail, Tom met them with a low request to keep their mouths shut.