“Well, you might find some of those gull eggs you wanted to sample,” replied Jack with a smile. “Anyhow, it would be better than drifting around all night in this craft.”
Hal shuddered. “It’s getting rougher, too,” he said.
“Yes, the breeze is freshening a little. Maybe, though, it’ll work around to the eastward toward sunset. If it does we stand a show to drift on shore farther down the coast. Kind of funny there are no boats around today.”
“I suppose if we didn’t want one the place would be full of them,” said Hal disgustedly. “We’re opposite the island now, Jack.”
“Yes, this breeze is sending us along fairly well. Ever think of having a small mast, Hal, so you could sail her if you had to?”
“No, but I believe I will—if I ever get back. I’ve seen them on launches.”
“They’re handy at times,” agreed Jack.
The conversation dwindled again. Presently Jack went to the wheel and turned the rudder hard aport, as he did so looking ahead at Hog Island, which was already perceptibly nearer.
“If we had that boat-hook,” he remarked, “we might set up a distress signal. As it is, I don’t see how we can. I guess the best thing is to try and make Hog Island. That’s land, anyway. And there used to be a little stone hut there, although I believe the roof was gone when I saw it last. Years ago they used to go out to the island and gather kelp and some of the men built a hut to sleep in in case a blow came up.”
“You don’t happen to know of an island around here that has a hotel on it, do you?” asked Bee plaintively. “I’d just dearly love a thick steak and a baked potato and—”