“Yes, into port,” said Captain Corbet. “That thar was the very fust idee that entered into my head as I sot foot on this here deck. This noble ship, this valable cargo,--is this to be given up, or surrendered to the tender mussies of the pitiless and ragin ocean? Not if I knows it. If we can manage to navigate this here craft into port, she’s ours! We can sell her. We can sell her cargo. It’s a val’able cargo. It’ll give each of us enough, if the proceeds air divided, to set us up for life. For my part, I’m an old man, with one foot in the grave; but I never forget that I am a feyther, and never did the parential heart beat more wildly than it did at the identical moment when this thought came like fire into my brain. That’s so.” “But how in the world can we get her into port?” cried Bart, in astonishment and excitement. “Wal,” said Captain Corbet, “that thar’s the very identical pint that I’ve been a cogitatin over the hull arternoon. I’ve gone about this here craft on all sides, an I’ve sot an surveyed her from a distance. I’ve shot my eyes an meditated her all over. But thar’s one grand and overpeowerin obstacle in the way to a fair navigation, and that is, she hasn’t got a rag of a sail except that jib.” “‘So what can we do?” said Bruce. “We can’t get her to move an inch without sails.” “Couldn’t we rig up the sails of the Antelope?” asked Tom. Captain Corbet shook his head mildly. “’Tain’t possible,” said he, “no how. Fust an foremost, the spread of canvas on the schewner ain’t over an above sufficient to fetch her along, and on this here ship it wouldn’t be a succumstance. Why, this here ship is a thousand tonner, an more too. Besides,” added the venerable captain, with mild suggestiveness, “the canvas of the Antelope _might_ be stronger.” This was a statement the truth of which was at once felt and acknowledged by all the boys. “Wal,” said Captain Corbet, “there ain’t no use doin things up in a hurry--not a mite. We’ve got to deliberate, cogitate, turn it all over in our minds, and be precious keerful how we decide. There’s a good deal at stake, and this here hour may be a goin to make or mar our fortins. I intend to brood over it this night, an p’aps by mornin I’ll see my way. The only trouble is,” he added, in a pensive tone, “that I don’t quite know how I can ever see my way to navigatin this here vessel without sails.” “Perhaps we can drift to some place,” suggested Phil. Captain Corbet looked at Phil for a few moments with mild astonishment. “Have you ever tried driftin, young sir?” he asked, at length. “No,” said Phil, “except with you, in the Antelope.”