“How’s that?”

“If we go down the fish won’t care if we have coats on or not—­guess they’d rather eat us without coats.”

“Oh dear!  Oh dear!” gasped the nervous passenger, and then he all but collapsed.

“The steamer is turning!” cried Tim Flynn, who had climbed up the mast to obtain a better view.  “Good luck to her if she comes this way!”

“If only we could send her a wireless message!” said Bob.

“Yes, here is where that newfangled telegraphing would come in handy,” returned Captain Spark.  “But we ain’t got no apparatus, so we can’t do it.”

With anxious eyes all watched the big steamer, which looked to be steering almost for them.  The craft was a long way off, so they could make out nothing distinctly.

“It’s clouding down—­we are going to have a squall!” cried Captain Spark suddenly.

He pointed to the eastward and the others saw that he was right.  As if by magic dark clouds were rolling up from the horizon.  The wind died out, and then came in uncertain puffs.

“The steamer is leaving us!” cried Mr. Carr.

“Oh, don’t say that, please don’t!” wailed Mr. Tarbill.

“Here comes the squall!” cried Captain Spark, and he was right.

Soon a sudden gust of wind struck the sailboat, almost keeling her over.  As quickly as it could be done, the sail was lowered and stowed away.

The squall was of short duration, lasting all told not more than ten minutes.  Only a few drops of rain fell.  Then the clouds rolled off to the westward and it became as clear as before.

“The steamer!  It’s gone!” shouted Mr. Carr.

“What!” cried Captain Spark.

“Gone, I tell you!”

With great anxiety all strained their eyes to catch some sight of the large craft.  At last Tim Flynn pointed with his finger.

“There she is—­sailin’ right away from us!” he said bitterly.

The words of the Irish tar proved true—­the steamer had again altered her course.  In a few minutes her dark form was swallowed up in the distant haze.

It must be admitted that all were much cast down by this happening.  When the steamer had headed directly for them they had thought sure they would be rescued.

“They must have done it deliberately,” said Mr. Tarbill.  “Oh, the villains! the scoundrels!”

“I don’t believe that,” answered Captain Spark.  “More’n likely they didn’t see us.  No captain would be so inhuman as to pass us by.”

Two hours dragged by slowly.  Tim Flynn was tired out with much watching and had lain down and Ned Scudd had taken his place.

“I see something,” said Ned, presently.  “Don’t know what it is.”

He pointed to the southward.  There was some low-lying object, with the waves dashing against it.

“Perhaps it’s a ship with the masts gone,” said Mr. Carr.

“Or a dead whale,” suggested Bob.