The Canadian nodded. Then the Wellington gave another lurch, and
Tom noticed that her bow gave an odd little dip.
"Filling with water, I'll be bound," he muttered, and running to the hatch he sounded the well hole. There were sixteen inches of water below. Soon it measured seventeen inches.
"We've sprung a bad leak," he announced to Sam. "It looks as if we might go to the bottom."
"Oh, Tom, you don't mean it!"
"Yes, I do."
"Can't we turn back? The island isn't more than two miles off. It may be safer to go back than to keep on."
"Exactly my idea, Sam. I'll speak to the Canadian about it."
The fat sailor was still pumping, but his face was full of despair.
"De ship he go down," he gasped. "We drown in ze lake!"
"Better turn back to the island," returned Tom. "And lose no time about it."