At noon they all returned to their respective cruisers and ate dinner, which, under the conditions, was no easy matter.

They had to hold the dishes to the table and swallow their tea between plunges.

Joe was inordinately proud of himself that day, for, in spite of the nasty motion--and there's nothing much more likely to induce sickness than a long ground-swell--he not only remained on duty but consumed his dinner with a fine appetite.

It rained quite hard for a half-hour about noon and then ceased just in time for them to set off to the _Catspaw_ again.

It was decided that the _Follow Me's_ tender was to be left with the schooner, in case of necessity, and Joe acknowledged that he felt a bit easier in his mind when it had been hoisted, not without difficulty, to one of the davits.
"It's all fine and dandy to say that this old tub can't sink," he confided to Wink Wheeler, "but--um--suppose she _did_ sink?
Then that little old dingey would be worth about a thousand dollars, I guess." "It would be worth about ten cents," answered Wink pessimistically, "after we'd crowded five fellows into her in a sea like this!" "Well, anyway, she's bigger than ours," said Joe.