“He might, of course, but I’m not going to ask him to.”
“No,” said John ruefully, “I don’t suppose we could do that. I guess we’ll have to put up with it.”
The wind had been steadily increasing in violence since the fire started and now was blowing almost a gale. It whipped the waves into foam and whistled and shrieked through the rigging. The fire, fanned by the breeze, now roared menacingly while its volume increased steadily. It was only too evident that it would be impossible to remain on board the Josephine many moments more.
“We’d better get away from here,” said Fred nervously, as he watched the mass of flame and smoke which now enveloped the whole forward part of the ship.
“When we do leave we won’t be much better off,” said Pop gloomily.
“Just the same I’d rather take my chances with the ocean than with this fire,” exclaimed Grant.
“Where are we going!” demanded John.
“How do I know!” said Grant. “We must leave, that’s sure. What we are to do after we leave is another matter.”
“Stand by to lower away!” came the order.
The four boys sprang to their positions. Petersen and Sam joined them a moment later. The negro cook was half-crazed with fear and still kept mumbling to himself, “Dat Finn, dat Finn.” Undoubtedly he did not understand that Petersen was to go on the same boat with him or he would not have consented to step aboard. Now, in the darkness it was almost impossible to recognize anybody and Sam probably had no idea who any of his companions were to be.