With so heavy a load the boat moved sluggishly through the water, despite all their efforts, and, to add to their labor, the wind was dead ahead.
"It's goin' to be a long pull; but Uncle Ben says that any job can be done by stickin' at it. So don't let's look around to see how near we are, but keep on workin' the oars till we get there," Sam said with a brave effort at cheerfulness as he set the example.
The lads were not inclined for conversation during the journey; both were nearly exhausted, and it required all their courage to continue at the laborious task. It really seemed as if the dory lay like a log on the water, and no matter how they tugged at the oars, which had apparently grown wonderfully heavy since morning, it seemed impossible to crawl away from the island.
Tom shut his teeth tightly as he worked, while Sam, trusting that his comrade would steer the craft, kept his eyes fixed upon the bottom of the boat, striving manfully to forget that he was weary, thirsty, and hungry. The rippling of the water against the side of the dory was the only sound to be heard; the sun, although very near to setting, sent his most fervent rays across the lazy swell of the ocean as if trying to discourage the toiling lads, while the warm wind, instead of refreshing, only added to their discomfort.
But, following Uncle Ben's advice, they "stuck at it" without any interval of rest, and, as a matter of course, decreased the distance between themselves and the Port by a certain number of inches with every stroke of the oars.
Finally, just when the sun had sunk out of sight behind the western hills, the dory poked her nose around that point of land which formed the eastern arm, or side, of Southport harbor, and Sam said with a long-drawn sigh of relief as he pulled a trifle more vigorously at the oars:
"It surely seems as if we'd been rowin' two or three days. I did think, when Uncle Ben told me I might live with him on Apple Island, that the time never could come when I'd be played out by pullin' a boat, 'cause of bein' so glad that I had a decent home once more; but if we'd been much longer rowin' over here I ain't certain as I could have stuck at it."
"Don't talk about it," Tom replied with a groan. "I'm so near dead that if I stop to think I'll tumble over. It did seem a spell ago as if I was starvin'; but now I'd rather lay down an' sleep than have the best dinner that ever was cooked!"
Ten minutes later the dory was made fast to the pier, and, by the rarest good fortune, the first person in Southport who learned of their arrival was Mr. Mansfield. He had just sauntered down on the wharf when Sam crawled ashore with the painter, and, as a matter of course, was curious to learn why they had come without Uncle Ben.
But little time was spent in telling the story, for no sooner had Mr. Mansfield gotten an inkling of the mischief done, than he turned abruptly, almost running up the street.