He was close on the spot apparently.
"Hello!" he shouted in return.
An answering whoop came back.
"This way, please! I'm in a peck of trouble here!" he heard someone say.
Twisting his head around as he bobbed up and down on the rollers, our hero caught just a glimpse of some object that seemed stationary, with the waves breaking over it.
It was even worse than being lost upon the sound then—the unknown had driven his boat upon some half hidden rocks, and caught as in a vise she was in danger of being wrecked unless some other craft came upon the spot and pulled her off.
That accounted for the shots and shouts, her owner realizing his extreme peril, for he was two miles from land and the storm increasing constantly.
Darry pushed on and soon another surprise awaited him.
"Hello! is that you, Darry?" asked a voice, and now he recognized it, so that even before he turned around again he knew he was once more in the company of Paul Singleton.
"How are you, sir?" he cried. "Looks like you had run aground in the middle of the bay. If you will give me a rope I'll try and drag you off the way you went on. That is the only thing to be done."