"And then, all to once, the engine STOPPED runnin'. I give the wheel a
whirl, but she only coughed, consumptive-like, and quit again. I went
for'ard to inspect, and, if you'll believe it, there wa'n't a drop of
gasoline left in the tank. The spare cans had ought to have been full,
and they was--but 'twas water they was filled with.

"'Is THIS the way you have your boat ready for me?' I remarks,
sarcastic.

"'That--that man of mine told me he had everything filled,' he stammers,
lookin' scart.

"'Yes,' says I, 'and I heard him hint likewise that he was goin' to make
you sorry. I guess he's done it.'

"Well, sir! the brimstone names that Fatty called that man was somethin'
surprisin' to hear. When he'd used up all he had in stock he invented
new ones. When the praise service was over he turns to me and says: 'But
what are we goin' to do?'

"'Do?' says I. 'That's easy. We're goin' to drift.'

"And that's what we done. I tried to anchor, but we wa'n't over the
ledge and the iron wouldn't reach bottom by a mile, more or less. I
rigged up a sail out of the oar and the canvas spray shield, but there
wa'n't wind enough to give us steerageway. So we drifted and drifted,
out to sea. And by and by the fog come down and shut us in, and that
fixed what little hope I had of bein' seen by the life patrol on shore.