Suddenly there was a slight crash forward and a shiver seemed to go through the gasolene craft.
“What’s that?” cried Mr. Racer in alarm.
“We hit something,” said Mr. Lacey. “Danforth, just see what it is, will you?” he asked of the mate, who was in the snug cabin with the owner and his guests.
But Mr. Racer did not wait. He rushed up on deck. The Norma had been brought to quarter speed and the silk merchant could see, floating off to one side, a small wrecked skiff. It seemed familiar to him.
“That’s what we hit, sir,” explained one of the crew. “Cut it right in two.”
“It’s my boys’ boat!” cried Mr. Racer. “The one they carry on the Gull. I know the shape of it, and I can see the red circle on the stern. Were they in it when we cut it down?”
“No, sir. I don’t think so, sir,” answered the sailor as he noted the anguish of Mr. Racer. “I saw it immediately after we struck, and I’m almost sure no one was in it. I’d have seen them, sir, if there was, sir.”
“Oh, but perhaps they were in it!” cried Mr. Racer. “Their sailboat may have foundered, and they might have had to take to the small boat. Oh, Mr. Lacey. We must pick up my boys!” he added, as the owner came on deck.
“Of course. Captain Nelson, put back and circle around that boat. Light the searchlight and play it on the wreck.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”