"We've been looking for you everywhere," said the man. "Mrs. Watson is anxious about you."
"Mrs. Watson?"
"Yes. She won't go to bed till you get back to the house. There's another man out for you, up the river."
"O, I'm sorry we have given you all so much trouble," said Bart; "but we didn't think that anybody would bother themselves about us."
"Well, you don't know Mrs. Watson that's all," said the man, walking along with them. "She's been a worrytin herself to death about you; and the sooner she sees you, the better for her and for you."
On reaching the house the boys were received by Mrs. Watson. One look at her was enough to show them that the man's account of her was true. Her face was pale, her manner was agitated, and her voice trembled as she spoke to them, and asked them where they had been.
Bart expressed sorrow at having been the cause of so much trouble, and assured her he thought that she had gone to bed.
"No," said she; "I've been too excited and agitated about your friend and about you. But I'm glad that you've been found; and as it's too late to talk now, you had better go to bed, and try to sleep."
With these words she gently urged them to their bedroom; and the boys, utterly worn out, did not attempt to withstand her. They went to bed, and scarcely had their heads touched the pillows before they were fast asleep.
Meanwhile the boys on board the Antelope had been no less anxious; and, unable to sleep, they had talked solemnly with each other over the possible fate of poor Tom. Chafing from their forced inaction, they looked impatiently upon the ebbing water, which was leaving them aground, when they were longing to be floating on its bosom after their friend, and could scarcely endure the thought of the suspense to which they would be condemned while waiting for the following morning.