There was no time to think about this most astounding and terrible discovery. They had stopped bailing for a few seconds, but the water had continued to rush in, and now, without so much as one last faint struggle, the Jolly Sport floundered and sank.
“She’s going!” screamed Harry.
“Jump!” cried Frank.
He saw them rise and plunge into the cold water, and then, with some trouble, he cleared the dripping sail that sought to settle down over his head and drag him under with the Jolly Sport.
They were close to the shore, else they could not have escaped even then. They helped each other out, and dragged themselves upon the bank, where they sank down, panting and helpless.
Beyond the mouth of the cove the breakers roared, and now in their clamor there seemed a note of triumph, as if they knew not all of the crew on board the Jolly Sport had escaped.
And the four water-dripping lads who lay upon the shore were too numb for words. But their hearts were torn with grief, even though they had reached solid ground, for one of their number was not with them.
Where was he?
Had he been swept overboard by a wave and carried down without a sound?
It did not seem possible.