"There might be such a thing as a belated
vessel," he argued, "and I might have the luck to signal it. Anyhow, I
am going to make one more try before agreeing to settle down here for
the winter."
As White was busy moving the galley stove into the cabin, and making
other preparations for their coming struggle against Arctic cold, Cabot
rowed himself ashore and left the dinghy on the beach. Then he climbed
to the summit of the lofty headland, where, for a long time, he leaned
thoughtfully on the rude Alpine-stock that had aided his steps, and
gazed out over the vacant ocean.
While Cabot thus watched for ships that failed to come, White was
putting the finishing touches to his new cabin fixtures. He was just
beginning to wonder if it were not time for his comrade's return when
he felt the slight jar of some floating object striking against the
side of the schooner. Thinking that Cabot had arrived, he shouted a
cheery greeting, but turned to survey the general effect of what he had
done before going on deck. The next minute some one softly entered the
cabin and sprang upon the unsuspecting youth, overpowering him and
flinging him to the floor before he had a chance to offer resistance.
Here he was securely bound and left to make what he could of the
situation, while his captors swarmed through the schooner with
exclamations of delight at the richness of their prize.
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