It was late before the party broke up, and the unfortunate mariner was shown to his cabin. He and the members of his rescued crew stayed on the Northland several days, but then a homeward bound vessel was hailed and they were placed on board. There were hearty leave-takings on both sides, with mutual expressions of regret.
As the ships rapidly drew apart, the captain and crew of the sunken sailing vessel lined the rail, and waved to the athletes until their figures became indistinguishable.
“Well,” remarked Bert, as they turned away. “That was an occurrence that we won’t forget in quite some time, I guess.”
“Bet your life it was,” agreed Tom. “It isn’t every voyage that we get the chance to do the rescue stunt like that.”
“Which is a very fortunate thing,” remarked Dick. “It’s all right for us, and gives us a lot of excitement, but it’s not much fun for the poor fellows that get wrecked. Here’s their vessel, which they probably thought a lot of, as all sailors do, gone, and their employment with it, for the time at least. And that’s saying nothing of the close approach to death which they had. I think I’d rather pursue some other occupation than that of the sea. You have too many chances of making a personal visit to the well known Mr. Davy Jones.”
“Righto,” agreed Tom, with a twinkle in his eye. “I’d rather do something safe, like running a sixty-horsepower automobile at the rate of eighty miles an hour, or some other little amusement like that, wouldn’t you, Bert?”
“Oh, of course,” grinned Bert, “there’s no doubt that that’s the safest thing in the world to do. You never hear of anyone getting hurt doing that, do you?”
“Certainly not,” said Tom. “Why, I’ve even heard that doctors recommend it to patients suffering from nervous disorders, and requiring a little mild diversion. In fact, it’s the customary thing to do.”
“No doubt about it,” said Bert, and then they all joined in a hearty laugh.