The Captain examined the log. "We have come a hundred and ten miles," he said. "Do you reckon either of you boys could have made a mistake in the course during your watch?"
"We didn't vary a quarter of a point from the direction you gave during my four hours," Charley declared. "I kept watch of the compass most of the time and the needle held steady at North."
"I was careful about that, also," Walter said. "We were headed exactly North during my entire watch."
"Well, that compass is true," the captain declared. "I tested it carefully before we left port. I reckon thar's only one explanation; the fleet must have changed their course during the night. We'd better heave-to until noon when I can take the sun an' tell exactly where we are at. It ain't no use trying to pick up the fleet again, now they are out of sight—it would be like hunting for a needle in a hay stack."
The crew were immediately set to taking in sail and in a few minutes the little ship was lying head to the wind under reefed foresail sail.
When the noon hour drew near, Captain Westfield brought his instruments on deck and prepared to take an observation of the sun. As soon as he secured it he went below to work out their position on the chart.
When he reappeared his face wore a very puzzled expression. "Heave the lead and find out how deep the water is an' what kind of bottom," he said, briefly.
Charley took the lead, a heavy cone-shaped piece of lead, slightly hollowed at the bottom, and with a long line attached to the small end. Filling the hollow end with soft soap, he dropped the lead over the side and let it sink until it struck the bottom. Then he pulled it aboard again, noting carefully the water mark on the line and examining the soap to which some particles of the bottom had adhered.
"Depth, six fathoms, (36 feet) bottom, soft gray mud," he announced.
The captain strode back to the compass and stared at it with a puzzled frown on his face.