A little to the southward of east, with its dingy sails furled and their bulging shapes turned to great lumps of gold, with the mast standing out in dark tracery against the red skyline, lay the fishing-sloop.
"It's the same!" Merry exclaimed.
"Sure! There can't be any doubt about it." "And she has cast anchor." "What does that mean ?" "She is a fishing-sloop, and I've an idea we must be on the fishing-grounds off the Jersey or New York coast.

There is no other explanation.

She is out here on a fishing-trip." "And Inza ?" "We'll have to wait for her to clear that mystery away." "What will we do?
If those fellows are deaf, there is no use in shouting." "We are drifting toward her, you see.

We'll be alongside before dark, if this continues." "Then we'll get on board of her!" "And we'll find out a few things, if we have to knock those fellows on the head." The thought was so exhilarating that the warm blood was again driven through their veins, and the numbness seemed in a measure to go out of their chilled bodies.

Nothing is so reviving as hope.