“Put us over that way,” requested Mr. De Vere, of Ned, who was steering and running the engine. “When we get a little nearer I may be able to make out the name.”
There were anxious hearts beating in the breasts of those aboard the Ripper. Could it be possible that the ship they saw was the derelict for which they had been searching? They all hoped so.
Ned speeded the motor up to the highest notch and the boat fairly flew through the calm sea. Near and nearer it came to the ship, which could now plainly be made out. There was not a sail set, and this was peculiar in itself. The brig idly rose and fell on the long, heaving swells.
“It’s my ship!” suddenly cried Mr. De Vere, after a lengthy observation through the binoculars. “I can make out her name. It’s the Rockhaven! Hurrah, boys! We have found her at last!”
“And Blowitz and his tug are nowhere in sight!” cried Ned. “We have beaten him!”
“Indeed we have,” went on Mr. De Vere. “Now, Ned, see how soon you can put us alongside.”
“It will not take long,” declared the young engineer. “It’s only a few miles.”
The Ripper proved worthy of her name, for she fairly “ripped” through the waves, and, in a short time, was so close to the derelict that they had to slow up.
“Put us up under the port quarter,” advised Mr. De Vere. “Luckily there is not much of a swell on, and we can easily get aboard as she sets low in the water. She must be leaking.”
With skillful hand Ned brought the motor boat alongside. The anchor chains were hanging low from the hawse holes and as they approached Jerry prepared to catch hold and swing himself up. He had reached out his hand, and was just going to grasp the links, when, from the deck of the deserted brig there came savage growls and barks. Jerry jumped back in alarm and Ned, who had jammed a boat hook in the side of the brig, to hold the Ripper steady, looked up.