Dr. Stanley remained outwardly cheerful. Darry and the others took heart from the clergyman's words.
"Tell you what," said Burd. "If we are wrecked on a desert island I shall be glad to have the doctor along. He'd have cheered up old Robinson Crusoe."
As the evening waned and the sea continued to pound the hull of the laboring yacht the older people aboard, at least, grew more anxious. The young folks in the radio room chattered briskly, although Jessie called them to account once in a while because they made so much noise she could not be sure that she was sending correctly.
Darry tried to relieve her at the key, but he confessed that he "made a mess of it." The radio girls had spent more time and effort in learning to handle the wireless than the collegians—both Darry and Burd acknowledged it.
"These are some girls!" Darry said, admiringly.
"You spoil 'em," complained Burd Alling. "Want to be careful what you say to them."
"Oh, if anybody can stand a little praise it is Jess and I," declared Amy, sighing with weariness.
Nobody cared to turn in. The situation was too uncertain. The boys could be with the girls only occasionally, for they had to take their turn at the pumps. It had come to pass that nothing but steady pumping kept the yacht from sinking. They were all thankful that the wind decreased and the waves grew less boisterous.
Towards midnight it was quite calm, only the swells lifted the water-logged yacht in a rhythmic motion that finally became unpleasant. Nell was ill, below; but the others remained on deck and managed to weather the nauseating effects of the heaving sea.