"I hope they land soon," he thought dismally. "I don't want to get too far from home. I wonder what George Van Pelt thinks of my absence?"
An hour slipped by, and soon the Victory was well on her way down the bay and heading outside of Sandy Hook. The air was cool and bracing, and under any other conditions the newsboy would have enjoyed the sail very much.
But by noon he began to grow alarmed again. Instead of putting in, the ship was standing still further from shore.
"See here, this doesn't look as if you were going to land soon," he said to one of the sailors who happened to pass him.
"Land soon?" repeated the tar. "That we won't, lad."
"Well, when will we land?"
"Not afore we get to the West Indies, I reckon."
"The West Indies!" And Nelson leaped up as if shot. "You don't mean it."
"All right; ask the cap'n." And the sailor sauntered off.
The captain had gone to the cabin, and thither Nelson made his way without ceremony.