“Yes, by trimmin’ the sails properly, an’ it seems as if we ought to be able to do that.”
“Go ahead, then, so far as I’m concerned. If it is an island of any kind we shan’t be worse off than we are now, and in case of its being inhabited our troubles will be at an end, for most likely we can get some one to take us to Key West.”
“You may keep on with your cooking. I reckon Vance and I can attend to this matter,” Ned replied as he whirled the wheel around until the steamer was headed for the apparent cloud.
Then, stationing Vance at the helm and directing him to keep her on that course as near as possible, the amateur captain went on deck to trim the sails.
This was not a difficult matter, and after some few experiments Ned learned that there was very little difference between sailing a steamer on the ocean and a small boat on the pond in Maine.
“She’s got a free wind now, and so long as that holds we won’t have any trouble in keeping her headed as we want to go,” he said cheerily, for the fact that the little craft behaved much as any other vessel raised his spirits wonderfully.
“It will take us a month to get there, though,” Vance said ruefully.
“Nonsense! If the wind don’t die away entirely I reckon we shall be able to see what that land looks like before the sun sets again. The screw won’t drag so much now that she heels over considerably, an’ we’ll make good headway.”
The weight of the breeze had forced the yacht over to an angle of perhaps thirty degrees, and although it was rather more difficult to keep her true to the course, she behaved very well.
Roy was preparing for a more sociable meal than had yet been served, as was learned a few moments later when he came to the pilot-house to call Vance.