Rough Water

"Not worth while?" Jake grumbled drowsily. "I was awake all last night.
It's quiet and cool here and I can't stand for being broiled outside."

"I'm afraid you'll have to. We start as soon as Maccario has filled the
tank."

Jake roused himself with a jerk. Dick leaned forward wearily with his
elbow on the table, but he looked resolute.

"Then you haven't let up yet? You're going on to the lagoon?"

"Certainly," said Dick. "The Danish boat has an hour's start, but she
only steams eight or nine knots and it will take some time to load her
cargo."

"But we can't drive the launch hard. The breeze is knocking up the sea."

"We'll try," Dick answered, and Jake growled in protest. His dream of
rest and sleep, and perhaps some mildly exciting adventure when the
citizens came out in the cool of the evening, had been rudely banished.
Moreover, he had had another reason for being philosophical when he
thought his comrade baulked.

"It's a fool trick. She won't make it if the sea gets bad."

Dick smiled dryly. "We can turn back if we find her getting swamped. It
looks as if you were not very anxious to overtake Kenwardine."

"I'm not," Jake admitted. "If you're determined to go, I'm coming, but
I'd be glad of a good excuse for letting the matter drop."

Somewhat to his surprise, Dick gave him a sympathetic nod. "I know; I've
felt like that, but the thing can't be dropped. It's a hateful job, but
it must be finished now."