a discouraged party that looked out from the cabin of the Clytie.
"Worse and more of it," murmured Blake, who was at the steering wheel. "Will it ever stop?"
"Now, now! None of that C. C. stuff!" spoke Joe with a laugh. "Things will come out all right yet. It's something to have had news of our friends, when we didn't expect any."
"Yes, but think of the plight they must be in—floating down this river in some house, that may go to pieces any minute!" cried Blake. "It's terrible—for Birdie and the others. The men may be able to stand it. But the ladies"
"Well, perhaps they are rescued by this time," said Joe, cheerfully. "That message was dated several days ago, you notice. And it must have been two or three days afloat. I have a feeling, somehow, that we'll find them all right."
"Well, I sure do hope so," spoke Blake. "Pshaw! I oughn't to be this way!" he exclaimed. "I must look on the brighter side. Perhaps they are all right, after all."
They ate supper in the enclosed cabin, for there was a cold drizzle of rain that made going outside unpleasant. No one felt much like talking, but the unexpected news had, in a measure, cheered them up.
