Tom.
“Cape Cod.”
“Oh! do we have to go by there?” he asked in surprise. Whereupon there was a laugh at Tom’s knowledge of geography.
They were pulling abreast of the next launch now, and her red side-light shone brightly through the gathering dusk.
“Now, Tommy, you can start your fire,” said Dan. “We’re up to them and passing. Hello! that chap’s going to hail us.”
“Hello, the launch!” came a voice through a megaphone.
Nelson picked up his own megaphone and answered the hail.
“Are you in this?” was the demand.
“No; we’re just following!”
“Oh! Are you going back to Marblehead tonight?”
“Don’t think so,” answered Nelson. “We’ll probably try for Boston.”
“I see! Much obliged! Goodnight!”
“Good night,” called Nelson, “and good luck!”
The other nodded and laid aside his megaphone. Then the Vagabond went ahead. It was too dark to read the name of the other boat, although Dan said he thought she was the Sizz.
“Did you mean that, about going to Boston?” asked Bob.
“Yes,” answered Nelson. “We might as well, because we’ll be nearer Boston than Marblehead by this time.”
“How far have we come?” asked Dan.
“About” – Nelson looked at his watch and whistled softly – “about fourteen miles, I think. And if we’re going back, we’d better be doing it. Our best port would be Hull, but I don’t like to look for it after dark. Come to think of it, I don’t know that I want to fuss around Boston Harbor at this time of night. Maybe, after all, we’d better put back to Marblehead or Lynn. Where’s that chart, Bob?”
It was found and spread out on the cabin roof. Tom held the lantern and Nelson and Bob studied it for a moment.
“I think the best thing to do,” said Bob finally, “is to keep on for Cohasset. It isn’t much farther, and looks like an easy harbor.”
“I guess you’re right,” Nelson replied. “Yes, that’s the best thing to do. Then we want to swing in now or we’ll never get there until about ten o’clock. There’s Minot’s Light over there. Make for that, Bob.”
“All right!” Bob turned the wheel and the Vagabond swung to starboard and crossed ahead of the launch which had hailed them. Beyond, in the darkness, the lights of the other racers gleamed and swung as the boats tossed slowly in the long seas. As they passed the Sizz– if it was the Sizz– a cheery “good night” reached them, and the four answered it. A few minutes later they were all alone, and the lights of the racers, headed for Highland Light, showed but dimly across the dark waters. Tom sighed.
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