While the boys obeyed the boatswain and shouted vigorously, Jack broke a bar of the wooden grating, tied a handkerchief to its end, and, maintaining a standing position with difficulty, waved the signal wildly.
“They see us!” cried Jack, excitedly. “They are setting the sail to come this way! Ahoy! ahoy!”
Amid his excitement, the boatswain nearly fell into the water. A minute later the raft came towards them. It touched the side of the grating, and a hearty voice cried out:
“Messmates in distress, welcome!”
The occupants of the raft were two—a boy and a man. The dress of the latter indicated him to be a sailor. He was about Jack’s age.
His companion was a boy, a year or two older than Will and Tom. His pallor showed that he had suffered from exposure to the storm, but his eye brightened as he assisted the boys to clamber on the raft.
It was a strong, substantial craft, made of stout timbers, covered with a gangway top, and lashed together with stout ropes.
Old Jack secured the grating to the end of the raft with a rope, and then turned to the sailor in charge of it.
There was a gleam of curiosity in the eyes of the latter as he surveyed Jack’s dripping form.
“Well, mate,” he said, “you seem to have been cruising on a frail craft?”