“Stand still—hold on to something to steady yourself,” ordered Bill. “I’ll have things fixed up in a minute or two.”
Tom heard his companion grope about the room. Almost instantly a match was flared and a lamp with a broad reflector illumined the place brilliantly.
“Now then!” added Bill, all vim and activity.
He threw open a locker, and from its depths he fished out two rubber coats and caps.
The two boys resembled old tars in their tarpaulin trim. The excitement of the moment was intense, but every move they made was progress, and their nerves and courage were as steady as steel.
“Can you manage the steering gear?” inquired Bill.
“I’ve tried it on some smaller boats than this,” replied Tom.
“Well, I can do the rest—provided the storm let’s us. Br—r!”
Even at anchorage the launch was swinging like an eggshell in a tempest. Bill set the lights. Then he pointed to the seat at the side of the craft next to the engine.
“She sparks automatically,” he explained, touching a button, and there was a whistling whir. “You control with the lever—understand?”