"I reckon you've been havin' a decently tough time," Bob said by way of starting the conversation.
"Since yesterday morning I've been trying to keep her afloat. If some craft hadn't hove in sight to-day I should have given up, and probably gone to the bottom with her."
"How did you get in such a mess?"
"An ocean steamer ran into us at sunrise yesterday. Before she could clear herself every one of the tug's crew, except myself, climbed on board over the bow. I was the engineer, and had an assistant. He was on duty at the time, and I asleep in the after cabin. The shock of the collision threw me out of the bunk and stunned me, I reckon, for when I came on deck there was no craft in sight. Since then I've kept steam on so the pump would work, and run in the hope of sighting some craft."
"Where do you hail from?"
"Philadelphia. The Sea Bird is a new boat, and we were taking her to Cuba."
"How long have you been out?"
"Five days from the Capes."
"Then we've made more of a southin' than I reckoned on," Bob said half to himself, and seeing a look of inquiry on the stranger's face he gave a brief account of the Bonita from the time the boys came aboard; saying, in conclusion: "We're better off than you, for the brig is sound; so you'd best bring your traps over the rail an' let the steamer sink when she gets ready. I reckon with your help we can crawl in toward the mainland an' make a tidy bit of salvage at the same time. What's your name?"
"Joseph Taylor. The only work I have ever done on ship-board has been in the engine-room, and I'm afraid I sha'n't make much of a sailor."