“I’m sure I hope not!” answered the mother quickly. “To run into a big storm with such a small boat as this would be dangerous.”
“Maybe we’d be wrecked and become regular Robinson Crusoes,” said Bert.
“Oh, please, Bert! don’t speak of such dreadful things!” said his mother.
“But that would be fun, Mother.”
“Fun!”
“All right. We won’t be wrecked then.” And Bert and his mother both laughed.
After dinner the Bobbsey twins sat out on the deck, and watched the blue waves. For some little time they could look back and see the shores of Florida, and then, as the Swallow flew farther and farther away, the shores were only like a misty cloud, and then, a little longer, and they could not be seen at all.
“Now we are just as much at sea as when we were on the big ship coming from New York, aren’t we?” Bert asked his father.
“Yes, just about,” answered Mr. Bobbsey.
It was a little while after this that Mrs. Bobbsey, who had gone down to the staterooms, to get a book she had left there, heard Flossie crying.