“But I like this much better than the other,” Jack told him. “It makes you feel almost as if you were flying. We are cutting through the water at a rate of twenty miles an hour right now, and yet you’d hardly believe it.”
Another stop was made, and more mail collected or delivered. Evidently then the dispatch boat was also being used for the mails. Amos began to feel a little uneasy again.
“All I hope is that we don’t have to make many more stops like this,” he muttered disconsolately, as they strained their eyes to make out the shadowy shape of the big sea fighter close to which they had come to, while the boat was again lowered and rowed away. “Ten precious minutes each and every time would soon put us on the ragged edge.”
“Oh! they know what they are doing,” Jack assured him. “Right now I bet you the commander of this little craft has the minutes figured up, and understands just when he can get to where he expects to run his boat ashore. And you’ll find that it isn’t going to be done in broad daylight either.”
Jack absolutely refused to borrow trouble. He had perfect faith in those keen-witted officers who had control of the war vessels. If they were not fully competent he believed they would not be filling the responsible positions they held in His Majesty’s service.
Presently the boat returned, and was once more hoisted aboard.
“This time let’s hope it’s come for good,” ventured Amos.
“They seem to be taking more pains at stowing it away than before,” Jack informed him, “and from that fact I imagine it’s going to stay aboard for a spell. Yes, and as we start off you may notice that they’ve changed the course by several points.”
“Well, it’s little escapes you, Jack, I must say. Now that you mention it I can see that we are running straight toward that bright star, while before this it lay on our right. Do you think we’re pointing into the east now?”
“Well, hardly that,” mused Jack; “rather something like east-by-north would fit in better.”