“We’re going down!”
Rattleton uttered the cry.
“Well,” said Browning, in the same old lazy manner, “it does look as if we might have to swim for it pretty soon.”
Diamond and Hodge were silent. Their teeth were set, and they were straining their eyes through the darkness, as if they longed to see something that would give them hope.
A light flashed out, winked, disappeared.
“Lighthouse there!” shouted Rattleton.
“Running straight for it!” cried Diamond.
“Be on a ledge in a minute!” grunted Browning.
Frank shoved over the tiller, and the Jolly Sport went floundering off through the seas, with her course changed somewhat.
“Bail, boys—bail!” Frank again commanded. “It is our only hope. If we can keep afloat five minutes longer——”