“Perhaps some steamboat will come out after us when they find we don’t come back,” suggested Phœnix. “That may be,” said the captain, willing to give his young passengers as much encouragement as possible. “But you fellows had better get something to eat, and turn in. You’ll be more comfortable in your bunks while we are rolling about in this way.” But Chap and Phil did not want anything to eat. The very idea was horrible to them. And so Phœnix ate his hard biscuit and some cold meat, for there seemed to be no intention of even boiling a pot of coffee, and then he crawled into his little bunk. “Boys,” groaned Chap, “I don’t care for a tug-boat as much as I used to.” “Care for it!” said Phil, in a weak voice. “I hope I may never----” And here his remark ended; he was too sick to say what he hoped. The night was a horrible one. Occasionally the boys slept; but as they found, whenever they dropped into a doze, they were very apt to roll out of their bunks, they were obliged to keep awake most of the time. As soon as daylight appeared, they were all anxious to go outside, feeling that a breath of fresh air would be better than anything else in the world. This the captain, who seemed to have been up all night, would not allow. [Illustration: The rescue.] “You’d be washed overboard,” he said, “and things are bad enough as they are, without any of you getting drowned. There’s a regular gale off shore, and we haven’t sighted an inward-bound steamer yet.” In the course of an hour or two, it was evident that a vessel ought to be sighted very soon, for the tug, which was not built for such rough work as this, had, in spite of the efforts of the crew to make everything tight on the decks, shipped a good deal of water, and it was necessary to work the pumps. But this did not help matters, for it was found that a leak had sprung somewhere, and the water came in faster than it could be pumped out. The tug was now far from the land, and in the path of coastwise steamers; and before noon the welcome sight of a line of smoke appeared on the horizon. It was a steamer which was approaching them, but, unfortunately, it was going southward, and not northward. “She’s a Savannah steamer,” said the captain, “but we’ve got to git on board of her, no matter where she is going; for this old boat can’t stand this sort of thing much longer. We’ve been blowing out from shore all night, and there’s no time for anything to come out after us now.” The boys looked aghast. “Savannah!” they cried. “We don’t want to go to Savannah!” “It’s a good sight better place than the bottom of the ocean,” said the captain. It was a bad bargain for the boys, but they had to make the best of it. “What are you going to do in Savannah?” asked Phœnix, in a tone of dismay. “It can’t take us more than a couple of days to get there,” said Phil, “and then we can telegraph home. As soon as our folks know where we are, I shall feel that everything is all right.”