"Narrer? O, it's wider'n you think for; besides, ef he got stuck into the middle of that thar curn't, how's he to get to the shore? an him without any oars? Answer me that. No, sir; the boat that'll drift down Petticoat Jack into the bay, without gettin ashore, 'll drift up them straits into Minas jest the same." "Well, there does seem something in that. I didn't think of his drifting down the Petitcodiac." "Somethin? Bless your heart! ain't that everythin?" "But do you think there's really a chance yet?" "A chance? Course thar is. While thar's life thar's hope." "But how could he live so long?" "Why shouldn't he?" "He might starve." "Not he. Didn't he carry off my box o' biscuit?" "Think of this fog." "O, fog ain't much. It's snow an cold that tries a man. He's tough, too." "But he's been so exposed." "Exposed? What to? Not he. Didn't he go an carry off that ole sail?" "I cannot help thinking that it's all over with him?" "Don't give him up; keep up; cheer up. Think how we got hold of ole Solomon after givin him up. I tell you that thar was a good sign." "He's been gone too long. Why, it's going on a fortnight?" "Wal, what o' that ef he's goin to turn up all right in the end? I tell you he's somewhar. Ef he ain't in the Bay of Fundy, he may be driftin off the coast o' Maine, an picked up long ago, an on his way home now per steamer." Bart shook his head, and turned away in deep despondency, in which feeling all the other boys joined him. They had but little hope now. The time that had elapsed seemed to be too long, and their disappointments had been too many. The sadness which they had felt all along was now deeper than ever, and they looked forward without a ray of hope. On Friday evening they landed at Scott's Bay, and, as old Bennie Griggs's house was nearest, they went there. They found both the old people at home, and were received with an outburst of welcome. Captain Corbet was an old acquaintance, and made himself at home at once. Soon his errand was announced. Bennie had the usual answer, and that was, that nothing whatever had been heard of any drifting boat. But he listened with intense interest to Captain Corbet's story, and made him tell it over and over again, down to the smallest particular. He also questioned all the boys very closely. After the questioning was over, he sat in silence for a long time. At last he looked keenly at Captain Corbet. "He's not ben heard tell of for about twelve days?" "No." "An it's ben ony moderate weather?" "Ony moderate, but foggy." "O, of course. Wal, in my 'pinion, fust an foremust, he ain't likely to hev gone down." "That thar's jest what I say." "An he had them biscuit?" "Yes--a hull box." "An the sail for shelter?" "Yes." "Wal; it's queer. He can't hev got down by the State o' Maine; for, ef he'd got thar, he'd hev sent word home before this." "Course he would."