It had not taken him long to find that he was the only inhabitant of
Lonely Island. He alone, of the company in the boat, had come ashore
to be saved.
Of the time he spent on the island you would not be interested to
hear. One day was like another, save as he had better or worse luck
in providing food. His great anxiety was to be taken off and to this
end he made a signal, but it was a small one, and it is doubtful it
would ever have been seen.
Gradually his hardships, his exposure and the loneliness preyed on
him until he was well-nigh insane. He became almost like an animal
in his fight against nature.
He was on the verge of madness when he saw the boat load of fishermen
approaching for water, and it was his queer actions that drove them
off. In his despair he threw his cap at them, the most fortunate
thing he could have done.
"And now you come to me!" he said, simply.
"Yes, we're here," admitted Jack. "But can you give us any more news
of the Ramona? That is what we want to know. Which way was she
headed when you were forced to leave her? Have you any idea where
she is now?"
"She was headed southeast," was the answer.
"And how long would you say she could keep afloat?" Walter wanted to
know.
"She ought to be afloat now!" was the startling reply.
"Now!" cried Jack. "What do you mean?"
"Why, she was in no danger of sinking," Ben went on, and Cora and the
girls felt new hope springing up in their hearts.
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