They
said they would take me when they went in, and I could not get anything
else out of them."
"Perhaps a little money--as much or more than they can make out of this
fishing-trip--will induce them to take us right in. That is, as soon as
the wind rises. We're not only anchored, but we're becalmed now."
Frank was thinking of Elsie and of the others who had been on the _Merry
Seas_. His heart was aching with anxiety. Bart and Inza were scarcely
less distressed.
The cabin or "cuddy," which had been surrendered to them by the
fishermen who were now outside, was a diminutive place, smelling
unpleasantly of fish and burnt grease. On two sides were bunks. Near the
center was the rusty stove about which the three friends were gathered.
Its heat caused their wet clothing to emit a cloud of steam. At one side
was the writing-desk, fashioned by clumsy hands, and scattered about was
a miscellaneous assortment of odds and ends, consisting of sea-boots and
oilskin coats, nets, and fishing-tackle.
"Not a ladies' parlor," Inza admitted, glancing about "But I tell you I
was glad to get into it."
"And you don't know anything about the people on the _Merry Seas_?"
Frank asked.
A look of pain swept across the dark, handsome face.
"Not a thing! I am worried to death about all of them, especially
father.
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