“I guess you’re right,” Nelson replied. “Yes, that’s the best thing to do. Then we want to swing in now or we’ll never get there until about ten o’clock. There’s Minot’s Light over there. Make for that, Bob.”
“All right!” Bob turned the wheel and the Vagabond swung to starboard and crossed ahead of the launch which had hailed them. Beyond, in the darkness, the lights of the other racers gleamed and swung as the boats tossed slowly in the long seas. As they passed the Sizz—if it was the Sizz—a cheery “good night” reached them, and the four answered it. A few minutes later they were all alone, and the lights of the racers, headed for Highland Light, showed but dimly across the dark waters. Tom sighed.
“Seems kind of lonesome, doesn’t it?” he asked, with a glance at the surrounding gloom. He shivered as he looked.
“You go down and get that dinner you talked so much about,” said Bob. “I’m starving to death.”
“All right,” replied Tom uneasily. “But if anything happens——”
“We’ll call on you for advice, Tommy,” finished Dan. “Get a move on, now; and when you make the coffee, don’t forget the coffee.”
So Tom descended, rather mournfully, lighted the lanterns in the engine room and cabin, and set about his task.
The Vagabond was a good twelve miles away from Cohasset, and that meant a full hour and a half’s run, for Nelson had slowed down the boat’s speed to eight miles. He began to wish that he hadn’t gone so far. To be sure, the Vagabond was the stanchest sort of a craft, and the weather was of the calmest; also there were no dangerous rocks nor bars between them and the harbor. But it was awfully dark and rather cold, and there was a whole lot of water around them. For a moment he wished that he had kept company with the racers until the Cape was reached; then he could have put in to Provincetown. But after a moment, when the odor of Tom’s coffee stole up on deck, the qualm of uneasiness passed. He took his place beside Bob, who, at the wheel, was staring intently ahead into the night.
“Can’t see much, can you?” asked Bob. “I suppose most of the sailing craft carry lights, don’t they?”
“All of them,” answered Nelson. “Keep on; you’re all right. There isn’t a rock between here and Minot’s Ledge. Let me take the wheel awhile; you go down and get something warmer on.”