“Oughtn’t we to be up to them by this time?”
“Wal, I don’t know. You saw the pace they went off at. Geeracious! Talk of race-hosses! Why, that boat went off at a rate to beat all creation holler!”
“But we’re going faster. We have the same current, and we’ve got sails up.”
“Never a truer word; but then it took some time for us to get a start, and in that time, gracious ony knows where they’ve got to. The ony thing that we’ve got to do, as I can see, is to keep follerin’ our noses right straight on, and keep in the current.”
Suddenly a thought struck Mr. Long. Rushing down into the cabin, he returned with a fog-horn, and raising it to his lips, blew a long, piercing blast.
“That’ll fetch ’em, if anything does,” said Captain Corbet.
“Silence!” cried Mr. Long, listening intently, while all others on board stood listening for the return cry.
But no sound came back.
“They’ve got a pistol, and if they hear us, they would fire. Have you a gun, captain?”
“Nary gun.”