“Oh, dear!  Oh, dear!” sighed Flossie.

“Don’t cry!” begged her brother.  “I’ll make a fire and we’ll eat some more crackers.  I’ll go get them from under the stump.”

“I’ll go with you,” declared Flossie, firmly, “I’m not going to stay alone.”

Together they pulled out some of the lunch they had found in the balloon basket.  Back to the shack they went, and Freddie was looking about for some matches in the old cabin when Flossie suddenly called out: 

“Hark!  I hear something!”

CHAPTER XX

A HAPPY MEETING

Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey and the friends who had gone with them in Captain Craig’s motor-boat to search for the runaway balloon, waited anxiously after they had run on the rocks for what was to happen next.

“Is there any danger?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

“No, lady, there doesn’t seem to be—­that is, if you mean danger of sinking,” said Captain Craig.  “As I remarked at first, we’re plumb fast on the rocks.  But maybe if we were to get out and thus lighten the boat, she would float off the rocks and we could keep on.”

“That’s a good idea!” declared Mr. Bobbsey.  “We must keep on, no matter what happens, and find those children!”

“I think we’ll find them!” declared Mr. Trench, and he seemed so much in earnest that Mrs. Bobbsey asked: 

“When?”

“Very soon now,” answered the balloon man.  “If my gas bag came down here on Hemlock Island—­that’s where we are now—­it won’t take long to search all over it and find your Flossie and Freddie.  That’s what I think.”

“But first let me see how badly the boat is damaged,” went on the captain.  “I’m afraid it’s in bad shape.”

“Can’t we get away from here?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.  “That is, I mean, after we find the children?  I wouldn’t go until we have found them!” she exclaimed.

“It all depends on what shape my boat is in,” went on the captain.  “As soon as you are all out I’ll take a look.”

The searching party stood about in the rain on the shore of Hemlock Island under the dripping trees, the drops splashing on their rubber coats, while Captain Craig looked over his boat.  He took some little time to do this, and at last he shook his head in gloomy fashion.

“Well?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.

“Not well—­bad!” answered the captain.  “We can’t go on until the boat is mended.  She isn’t as badly smashed as I thought, and it doesn’t leak much, which is a good thing.  But I can’t use the engine to drive her along until it’s fixed.  We’ll have to stay on the island until I get help, I guess.”

“How are we going to get help in all this rain and fog?” Mr. Bobbsey wanted to know.

“There used to be some campers’ huts here,” said the captain.  “Maybe some of those fellows left a rowboat.  I could go over to the mainland in that and get help.  Some of you can come with me if you like.”