"It's us out for all night, unless you can whistle up a wind," said
Frank grimly.
"We'll both try," proposed Andy, and they whistled all the tunes they knew, but without avail.
Then, having lighted their lamps, and cooked a supper on the oil stove in the small galley, they prepared to spend the night at sea. They had often done it before, for their craft was a staunch one, and as they had said at home that they might be detained, they knew their folks would not worry.
They stood watch and watch, of several hours at a stretch, and Frank was on duty when the gray and misty night began to be dispelled by the rosy sun rising from the water. As he glanced across the slowly heaving billows, something in the very path of Old Sol's smiling beams caught his eye.
It was a sailboat, somewhat larger than the Gull, but it was not the sight of the craft itself that attracted Frank's attention. It was something trailing behind.
"Andy! Andy, come up here!" called elder Racer lad.
"What's the matter?" demanded his brother, coming from his berth in the tiny cabin, and rubbing his sleepy eyes. "See another whale?"
"No, but look at that sailboat? Isn't it dragging something?"
"It sure is!"
"What do you make it out to be?"