During the remainder of the day Neal and Teddy stayed below, not caring for another view of the angry sea, and when night came the gale had so far abated that the yacht was sent ahead once more; but owing to the force and direction of the wind it was deemed best to continue on a southerly course even at the expense of reaching the Caribbean Sea, rather than take the chances of putting about.
All this Jake explained when the boys visited him just previous to retiring, and he added in conclusion:
"It seems pretty tough to go yet further south; but Mr. Walters is a cautious sailin' master, an' when he makes up his mind to a thing you can count on its bein' mighty nigh right."
"Will it be possible to get home as soon as father intended if we go so far out of the way?" Neal asked.
"If he don't do any cruisin' after he gets up north I reckon it could be done; but there's no sense in figgerin' on that till we're off Hatteras."
Now that the yacht had proved her seaworthiness by riding safely through the storm the boys would have been willing to go almost anywhere in her, and the idea that they might have no cruising in a more agreeable climate caused a decided feeling of disappointment; but, as Jake had said, there was no reason to worry about that while they were so far from home, and as if by common consent the subject was not broached again.
On the following morning when they went on deck the sun was shining down upon the yet angry looking waves; but one of the sailors assured them that "the gale had blowed itself out."
"It stands to reason there'd be a heavy sea runnin'; but its settlin' down fast, an' by to-morrow there won't be swell enough for comfort."
In this he was correct. Twenty-four hours later the awnings were up, and all hands were panting under the blazing heat of a tropical sun.
This sudden change prostrated the boys, and during the next two days they fanned themselves, drank iced drinks, and sought in vain for some spot where a breath of cool air could be found.