"They would jump us twenty feet into the air," thought Sam. "It's awful! I don't care whether he gets his old valise or not."
Pete, on the other hand, seemed to be thinking mainly of his share in the management of the Elephant, but as she swung away upon another tack, he remarked to Sam: "See that surf? Well, right in there, if they can get near enough to throw a line, the sporting fishermen strike the biggest bass you ever saw. Takes half an hour to pull one in sometimes."
That was a kind of fun of which Sam knew nothing, but he replied: "We'll come again and try it on. But where are we going now?"
"You'll see in a minute," said Pete.
It was many minutes, instead of only one, before Sam had any clear idea of what Captain Kroom was up to. The Elephant appeared to be running along the seaward line of the sand-bar, between that and the breakers. Then to the left Sam saw a break in the surf—a streak of pretty smooth water with foaming "boilers" on both sides of it. Into that streak the old sailor steered the three-cornered boat.
Oh, how she did dance, and how Sam did hold on! But he did not utter a sound, and the next thing he knew the mere cockle-shell under him was sailing along well enough, safely enough, over the long regular swells, not at all boisterous or dangerous, of the great ocean that was three thousand miles wide.
"I didn't believe he could do it," thought Sam. "We may get to the Narragansett, but how on earth are we to get back again?"