Slowly the time dragged on.  Nobody aboard the craft knew what to do.  Once Bob tried to cheer up and hum a ditty, but the effort was a dismal failure.

“Bob, I reckon you are sorry now that you left home and came with me,” observed the captain soberly.

“I’m not sorry that I left home,” answered the lad promptly.  “But I must confess I am sorry that all of us are in such a pickle as this.”

“If I had known my ship was going to be wrecked I’d not have taken you on this voyage.”

“It is an awful loss.”

“Yes—­but I sha’n’t mind it so much, if only we reach a place of safety.”

“Oh, if only I was home!” sighed Mr. Tarbill.  “If only I was home!”

“Wouldn’t just dry land suit you?” queried Bob, with a bit of his old-time humor.

“I—­I suppose so, but I’d like home best.”

“Any land would suit me just now,” put in the captain.

“Supposing we should land among cannibals!” murmured the nervous passenger.

“I don’t believe there are any around here,” answered Captain Spark.

“But are you sure?”

“No, I am not sure.”

“I knew it!  Oh, if the savages got us it would be terrible!” And Mr. Tarbill shuddered.

“Well, he’s a wet blanket, if ever there was one!” declared Mr. Carr, in deep disgust.

“I am—­er—­a wet blanket?” demanded the nervous passenger.

“Yes, you are!” declared the other.  “And I, for one, am tired of hearing you croak.”

“Hum!” murmured Mr. Tarbill, and then, for the time being, he said no more.  The constant rocking of the boat made him somewhat sick at the stomach, and he was anything but happy.

Bob could not help but think of home, and of his dear mother and father.  If he was lost, what would they say and what would they do?

“Dear folks at home!” he murmured.  “If I ever get back you’ll find me a different boy, yes, indeed, you will!  No more silly tricks for Bob!” And he shut his lips with a firmness that meant a great deal.

The boy had just closed his eyes to take a nap when a loud cry from Tim Flynn awoke him.

“What’s the matter?” he questioned.

“What do you see, Tim?” asked the captain.

The sailor was at the bow, standing up on the seat and gazing far across the rising and falling waters.  He did not answer until the craft was on the crest of a high wave.

“A ship!” he exclaimed.

“Where?” came from all of the others in concert.

“Dead ahead!”

Both the captain and Mr. Carr looked and saw that the report was true.  Far, far away could be seen a low-lying dark object, with a trail of smoke behind it.

“It’s a steamer,” said Captain Spark.

“Is it headed this way?” asked Bob, eagerly.

“I believe so.”

“Are you sure, sir?” came from Mr. Tarbill.  “Please don’t make any mistake.”