"See any signs of a harbor, Jack?"
It was Nick who called this out, as he watched the skipper of the Tramp swing the pair of binoculars he was handling along the shore ahead, while Jimmy had the wheel.
"Not that I could say for certain," replied the other, lowering the glasses for a minute in order to rest his strained eyes. "I was trying to get our bearings; and from several things about the shore, that resemble the line of the chart, I begin to believe I know where we are."
"Not near that awful Murderkill Creek, I hope?" spoke up Nick, shuddering.
"What's the matter with you?" called George. "Any port in a storm, say I; and even if it happened to be Slaughter Creek, which I believe lies further on toward Lewes, I'd grab it in a hurry, if it came along. Don't you go to saying a single word against that sweet harbor. We'll rename it Paradise Creek, if only it serves us this day."
As it was getting darker all the time, no wonder George had begun to feel nervous. Even though he saved himself, and Nick, should he lose his boat, it would almost break his heart; for in spite of her many and serious faults the jaunty skipper of the erratic Wireless fairly loved the craft.
"Yes, we are not many miles above Murderkill; and that or Jones Creek will have to be our destination; for we must have passed the Dona opening by mistake. But perhaps the storm will kindly hold off until we're all snug in a harbor."
While Jack said this, in order to buoy up the downcast chums, deep down in his heart he believed that they were bound to be caught out on that wide stretch of water, and have a fight for their lives, particularly those who were manipulating the tricky speed boat.
But it was useless to ask George to come aboard the Comfort, and try to tow his craft. That would seem too ignoble, worse than having a farm wagon drag the broken-down bubble wagon into town, in fact.
They had gone in as near the western shore as prudence dictated. Jack told everybody to be on the lookout for the first sign of an opening. Beggars could not be choosers, and only too gladly would they welcome any port, however ill-named or hard looking.