Instead of releasing his hold on Neal the reptile held firm, etc. See page [193].
Night was close at hand. The sun had already set, and the short-lived twilight cast a sinister grayish hue over the waters. Mr. Walters' boat had the lantern raised at the bow on the end of an oar where it swung gently to and fro, and in a few moments all the others could be distinguished by the same signal.
During such time as they had been waiting to witness the end of the Sea Dream the little crafts had drifted farther apart, until the one in charge of Neal's father was nearly half a mile away, and the sailing master could be heard shouting for them to be brought nearer together.
"We shall probably have a breeze to-night," he cried when Jake's boat approached within easy hailing distance, "and if it should come you must rig up something to serve as a sail, for your only chance of keeping afloat will be to run before it. You have a compass, and remember that land is to be found to the westward."
"Ay, ay," the engineer replied, as he looked around in vain for some sign of the wind, and then he added in a low tone to the boys:
"I allow Mr. Walters is off in his reckonin' this time, for there isn't a breath of air stirring now."
"We may get it later," Neal said apprehensively, and Jake muttered to himself; but yet so loud that Teddy could hear him:
"It'll be tough on us if it comes out of the wrong quarter."
In ten minutes from the time the word had been given to bring the boats into closer order the mantle of night had fully fallen, and the location of the other crafts could only be told by the tiny, swaying lights, or the hum of voices.