Chapter Twelve.
The Enterprise fails—remarkably.
The lads had to pass the “Blue Boar” on their way to Widow Mooney’s hut, and they went in just to see, as Bob said, how the land lay, and whether there was a prospect of help in that quarter if they should require it.
Besides a number of strangers, they found in that den of iniquity Joe Stubley, Ned Bryce, and Groggy Fox—which last had, alas! forgotten his late determination to “leave the poor old stranded wreck and pull for the shore.” He and his comrades were still out among the breakers, clinging fondly to the old wreck.
The boys saw at a glance that no assistance was to be expected from these men. Stubley was violently argumentative, Fox was maudlinly sentimental, and Bryce was in an exalted state of heroic resolve. Each sought to gain the attention and sympathy of the other, and all completely failed, but they succeeded in making a tremendous noise, which seemed partially to satisfy them as they drank deeper.
“Come, nothin’ to be got here,” whispered Bob Lumsden, in a tone of disgust, as he caught hold of his friend’s arm. “We’ll trust to ourselves—”
“An’ the thumpin’ sticks,” whispered Pat, as they reached the end of the road.
Alas for the success of their enterprise if it had depended on those formidable weapons of war!
When the hut was reached the night had become so nearly dark that they ventured to approach it with the intention of peeping in at the front window, but their steps were suddenly arrested by the sight of a man’s figure approaching from the opposite direction. They drew back, and, being in the shadow of a wall, escaped observation. The man advanced noiselessly, and with evident caution, until he reached the window, and peeped in.