“It would come pretty tough if I’d insisted on the boys tryin’ to get to Key West in this craft, an’ it turned out that they were to meet their death by following my advice,” he said to himself, and straightway the most dismal forebodings took possession of him.
It was while he was in this mood that he went below, as if needing companionship, and the cook, busily engaged as he was, could not fail to note the lugubrious look on his face.
“Is Vance at the wheel?”
“He’s asleep on the locker. It is a dead calm, an’ there’s no need of anybody standin’ there.”
“What makes you look so glum?”
“Perhaps it’s because I’m just beginnin’ to get some common sense into my head.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m thinkin’ that perhaps we did a foolish thing in tryin’ to take this craft into port. I coaxed you an’ Vance until you had to give in, an’ it would be terrible if anything should happen.”
“I reckon you are suffering from an attack of foolishness instead of common sense. We wanted to come, and probably should have insisted on trying to float the yacht or howled after she had been beaten to pieces because we didn’t do such a thing. What has struck you so suddenly?”
“The fact that we shall be out to-night not knowin’ where we’re steerin’, but obliged to run because I can’t heave a craft to.”