“We saw them for a few minutes,” said Randy. “Gif had hold of a spar that I grabbed, and Ralph and Spouter were on another piece of wreckage. Then I slipped and went down, and when I came up I hit this piece of wreckage and joined Andy.”
It was quickly decided to bring the pieces of wreckage together if it could be accomplished in safety. Ira Small ordered Fred to stand by with a small spar to use as a fender if necessary, and then called similar directions to Randy. Then Jack watched his chance and pulled in on the line.
For several minutes matters looked rather serious as the bits of wreckage came together with a crash, then swept apart and came together with another crash. But finally several pieces of rope were lashed fast under Ira Small’s directions, and then Randy and Jack were able to assist Andy to a place on the blankets beside the sailor.
“Now lash all the wreckage together as tight as you possibly kin,” said Ira Small. “Then we’ll have a purty respectable kind of a raft to float around on. I kin tell you, this wreckage is a God-send to us,” he went on solemnly. “If it hadn’t been fur it, we’d all be at the bottom of the ocean by this time.”
“Yes, but if it were not for the wreckage, the motor boat wouldn’t have been smashed,” put in Andy.
“Well, lad, I s’pose that’s so, too,” admitted Ira Small, nodding his head gravely.
Now that they were together once more, the four Rover boys felt somewhat better. Yet they continued to worry over the disappearance of their three chums.
“It will certainly be an awful thing if they don’t show up,” remarked Randy. “Just think of how their folks will feel.”
“Yes, and think how we’ll feel!” came from Fred, and his face showed his downheartedness.
Andy and Randy brought with them one thing which was a little comfort. On their wreckage they had found a piece of sail several yards square, and during the rain they had caught a few cupfuls of water. From this, as the morning wore on, each took a sip.