"
"What does that mean?"
"She is a fishing-sloop, and I've an idea we must be on the
fishing-grounds off the Jersey or New York coast. There is no other
explanation. She is out here on a fishing-trip."
"And Inza?"
"We'll have to wait for her to clear that mystery away."
"What will we do? If those fellows are deaf, there is no use in
shouting."
"We are drifting toward her, you see. We'll be alongside before dark, if
this continues."
"Then we'll get on board of her!"
"And we'll find out a few things, if we have to knock those fellows on
the head."
The thought was so exhilarating that the warm blood was again driven
through their veins, and the numbness seemed in a measure to go out of
their chilled bodies. Nothing is so reviving as hope. And hope was
theirs again. The raft drifted so slowly and Bart was so eager that he
wanted to leap into the sea and swim to the vessel.
"Let us save our strength," was Merriwell's advice. "We are going
straight there. We will probably need all the strength we have."
"I see only one man. He is pottering about near the cabin."
"The other is aboard somewhere. And you noticed that dog? If he puts up
a fight, too, I've an idea that he will be worse than either of the
men."
The progress of the little raft was tantalizingly slow, but it moved
steadily, and after the sun had set and while the darkness was gathering
on that great expanse of water, it swung close in under the stern of the
sloop.
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