"What was the string for?" demanded John.
"If you can't guess, I shan't tell you," laughed George. "I'm just making these suggestions for little Pyg's benefit. He doesn't look as if he was happy. Hi, Fred!" he added, turning to the pilot, "you had better go back in the stern and lie down."
"I would," answered Fred, who was genuinely miserable now, "if there was any one on board who knew enough to take my place."
"Any one of us can do it," spoke up George glibly.
Fred shook his head in token of his unbelief as he said slowly, "We would go to the bottom."
"We may go there anyway," said John, "if this wind keeps rising. I want you to notice how much higher the waves are and how many more white caps we can see. I don't know what's going to become of us."
The boy spoke seriously and for a moment his companions looked keenly at him.
Sometimes it was difficult to decide just what thoughts were in John's mind. His manner of speaking did not betray his innermost feelings. This time, however, it was evident that he was anxious, if not alarmed, and when a moment later Fred declared that he was so miserable that he must find some relief, the anxiety of the Go Ahead boys increased greatly.
Fred retired to the cockpit and stretched himself at full length upon the cushions of the seats. A ghastly, greenish pallor was upon his face and no proof was required that he was far from being happy.
John now took the wheel and did his utmost to hold the Black Growler to a steady course.