A little while later the blow was on them in earnest, and with engines stopped the steam yacht drifted rapidly southeastward, heading for a part of the coast containing many indentations where there were rocks and sandbars, all backed up by a heavy tropical growth of trees, bushes and vines.
“We’re getting toward shallow water now,” announced Mr. Brooks a little later. “We’ll have to be careful that we don’t get on a sandbar or on the rocks.”
The bottom at this point shelved gradually and now they were in water not over ten or twelve feet deep. The spot was noted with care by the captain, and then the Firefly’s engines were started once more and they headed out into the Gulf in the teeth of the storm.
“Do you think that was the spot to which the Margarita drifted after she was abandoned?” questioned Jack eagerly.
“Well, doesn’t it look plausible?” was the captain’s counter question.
“I’ll say so—that is, if the wind was blowing then as it’s blowing now.”
The storm lasted until after midnight, but when day broke the sun came out as clear as ever and the Gulf was once more, comparatively calm.
They ran southward with care, taking many soundings so that they might not hit the rocks or run up on a sandbar. Thus they managed to reach a point not over a hundred yards from the shore and here anchored.
“We’ll have to take to the gasoline launch,” announced the captain, and this was done. Mr. Brooks was left in charge of the Firefly, much to his disgust, and the captain and the four boys, along with the diver and Jake Patnak, set off.
The remainder of the day was spent in moving in and out of innumerable coves. As they did this, all of the party kept their eyes open for some sign of the abandoned vessel. Once or twice they sighted some old wreckage, but this stuff proved of no value.