ow
otherwise, that it did. We have been so very fortunate ourselves!"

"More than fortunate!" Merry observed, with a thankful heart. "Now, if
we can only get to the city without delay! Call in the fishermen and
perhaps an offer of money can do something. If not, we can capture the
sloop and take it in ourselves!"

"But there is no breeze," Bart reminded.

"That is so. But call in the fishermen. We may get some opinions out of
them."

Jabez and Peleg Slocum, the deaf-mute owners of the fishing-sloop _Sarah
Jane_, of Sea Cove, New Jersey, were what one might call "queer ducks";
a thing not so much to be wondered at when the fact that they had been
deaf and dumb from infancy is taken into consideration, with the further
fact that the greater part of their fifty odd years had been spent in
the lonely and precarious calling of Atlantic fishermen. They were rough
and gnarled and cross-grained, like the sloop whose deck they trod; yet,
in spite of all, like that same sloop, they had some good qualities.

To them fishing was the end and aim of existence. Hence, as soon as
Merriwell, with the aid of pencil and paper, began to talk of being
taken straight to New York, the fishermen shook their heads. They had
work to do out there on the fishing-banks. It was probable they reasoned
that it was not their fault that these young people had fallen in their
way. They had dutifully rescued them from watery graves--or, in the case
of Hodge and Merriwell--had permitted them to rescue themselves. And
thus, whatever obligation they may have been under as fellow human
beings had been fully discharged. They did not want Merriwell's
money--and they certainly did not desire to run to New York. It was not
their habit to visit New York. Sea Cove was their home, and, whenever
they pulled up their rusty anchor for a run from the banks, they
returned to Sea Cove invariably, unless blown out of their latitude by a
storm, as sometimes happened.

Finally one of them wrote:

"See in morning."

"And now we'll have something to eat!" Inza declared. "Both of you are
famished. You are getting thawed out and dry, and if your stomachs are
strong enough to stand the odor of things, I'll go ahead and get some
supper for you. I know where everything is in the--what do you call
it?--locker? Peleg, that's the taller one, showed me."

"Peleg must be sweet on you," remarked Frank, laughing.

She picked up a "spider" and shook it at him.

"Don't troub