“Yes; that’s it; yell like all possessed.”

The cries of the boys now burst forth in shrill screams and yells, which were echoed among the woods and rocks around.

“Now,” cried Captain Corbet, “all together!”

The boys shouted all together.

“That’ll fetch him,” said the captain, “ef anythin doos.  It’s a pity we didn’t think of this afore.  What an ole fool I must ha ben to forgit that!”

The boys now walked on shouting, and screaming, and yelling incessantly, and waiting, from time to time, to listen for an answer.

But no answer came.

At times Captain Corbet’s voice sounded forth.  His cry was a very peculiar one.  It was high pitched, shrill, and penetrating, and seemed as though it ought to be heard for miles.  But the united voices of the boys, and the far-piercing yell of the captain, all sounded equally in vain.  No response came, and at last, after standing still and listening for a longer time than usual, they all looked despondingly at one another, as though each were waiting for the other to suggest some new plan of action.

Captain Corbet stood and looked musingly out upon the sea, as though the sight of the rolling waters assisted his meditations.  It was some time before he spoke.

“I tell you what it is, boys,” said he at last.  “We’ve ben makin another mistake.”

“How so?”

“We’ve gone to work wrong.”

“Well, what can we do now?”

“Wal, fust an foremost, I muve we go back on our tracks.”

“Go back?”

“Yas.”

“Why?”

“Wal, you see, one thing,—­Solomon can’t hev come further than this by no possibility, onless he started straight off to walk all the way up the bay agin, back to Petticoat Jack by the shore route,—­an as that’s too rough a route for an ole man, why, I calc’late it’s not to be thought of.  Ef, on the contrairy, he only kem out to hunt for fish, ’tain’t likely he come as fur as this, an in my pinion he didn’t come nigh as fur.  You see we’re a good piece on, and Solomon wouldn’t hev come so fur if he’d cal’lated to get back to the schewner.  What d’ye say to that?”

“I’ve thought of that already,” said Bruce, sadly.  “We’ve certainly gone as far as he could possibly have gone.”

“Terrew,” said Captain Corbet, solemnly.

“But what can we do now?” asked Bart.

“Fust of all, go back.”

“What! give him up?”

“I didn’t say that.  I said to go back, an keep a good lookout along the shore.”

“But we’ve done that already.”

“Yes, I know; but then we didn’t begin to yell till quite lately, whereas we’d ought to hev yelled from the time of fust startin.  Now, I think ef we went back yellin all the way, we’d have a chance of turnin him up somewhar back thar whar we fust came in sight of the cliff.  Very likely, if he ain’t already drownded, he’s a twisted himself up in some holler in the cliff back thar.  He couldn’t hev got this fur, certain,—­unless he’d ben a runnin away.”