“Well, no, we don’t seem to,” admitted the skipper.
“And to what port would you sail?” asked Dr. Stanley.
“Well, now, there’s not any handy just now, I admit. If we head back for the land we may be thrown on our beam-ends, I will say. The waves are big ones, as you see.”
“You are not very encouraging, Skipper,” said the minister.
“I wouldn’t be raising any false hopes in your mind, sir,” said Pandrick.
“You’re a jolly old wet blanket, you are,” declared Darry to the sailing master. “What shall we do?”
“We’ll have to take what comes to us,” declared the skipper.
“You are a fatalist, Mr. Pandrick,” said the minister, and Darry was glad to hear him laugh cheerily.
“No, sir. I’m a Universalist,” declared the seaman. “And I’ve all the hope in the world that we’ll come out of this all right.”
“But can’t we do something to help ourselves?” demanded the exasperated Darry.