“We’re stuck! That’s all there is to it,” said Jack. “Nothing much can happen to us, though, as it’s such fine weather, barring the fog. And that’s bound to lift soon. We can paddle ashore with our hands, on a pinch, as soon as we can see where we are.”
But the fog continued to hang over the surface like a pall, and the boys waited with what patience they could muster, because, though by paddling with their hands they might be able to send the dinghy through the water at the rate of a mile an hour or even more, they were as likely as not to paddle her farther out to sea.
Suddenly Jack straightened up and put his head on one side, listening.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Didn’t hear a thing,” replied Rod.
“I did, though,” declared the captain. “Listen!”
After a while a faint creaking sound came over the water.
“Hear it then?” Jack asked.
The other nodded. “What was it?” he queried, straining his ears afresh.
A smile came slowly to Jack’s face.