"There is no reason to hope for anything better until the wind blows itself out, and according to my way of thinking that won't be within the next twenty-four hours. Why don't you people lie down?"
"Because it has been a matter of impossibility to remain in the berths."
"You can do so now without much difficulty. Come, boys, let me help you to turn in."
The calm, matter-of-fact way in which Mr. Walters acted caused the boys to feel more comfortable in mind, and they made no protest when he assisted them to the state-room where there was yet water enough to show what had happened.
"Why didn't you call one of the stewards to mop this up?" the sailing master asked as he lighted the swinging lamp.
"We haven't seen one since the gale begun," Neal replied with a laugh. "I fancy they were as much frightened as Teddy and I."
"It won't take long to turn them out," and Mr. Walters started forward in a manner which boded no good for the skulkers.
Neal and Teddy found little difficulty in retaining a recumbent position, although the yacht was tossing up and down like a mad thing. She no longer gave those sudden lurches which threatened to carry away even the short spars, and for the first time since the deluge from the port-hole, they began to feel really comfortable in mind.
The steward came in very shortly after Mr. Walters left, and from the expression on his face it was evident he had been rated severely for neglect of duty.
"It didn't make any difference to us whether the water was washed up or not," Neal said in a friendly tone. "The sailing master saw it and asked why we hadn't called you."