A brief examination of the small boat indicated that it would be more seaworthy than the hull upon which they were standing. No time was lost in preparations for launching the craft.
“When folks get shipwrecked,” suggested Jimmie, “don’t they take water and food with them if they have it?”
“They surely do, little man!” cried Ned. “Hustle about and see what you can get. Try to find something in which to carry fresh water.”
Jimmie dashed back into the cabin to raid the pantry. There he found the water gaining rapidly. It was almost knee deep.
Splashing his way about with the aid of the swinging lamp the boy found several loaves of the hard, black bread with which the vessel was provisioned. These he wrapped in an oilskin coat from the captain’s room. He tucked the parcel under one arm. With his free hand he seized a huge piece of the captain’s beloved cheese.
Hastening quickly to the deck he deposited his burden in the boat. Another trip to the cabin failed to locate any vessel in which fresh water could be carried. The boy then dashed forward to the galley.
There he found a huge kettle used by the cook for boiling beef. This Jimmie filled with water from the barrel on deck. The cover of the kettle was provided with a clever device for fastening it in place. This Jimmie secured, then staggered toward the stern with his burden.
Working with desperate speed the four boys had succeeded in launching the small boat. It now hung bobbing about to a short length of painter under the schooner’s stern. It was not far below the taffrail.
Ned and Harry made a hurried trip to the cabin to secure the kits, returning just as Jimmie succeeded in placing his kettle of water aboard.
“Hurry up, Ned,” cautioned Jack. “The little wagon is just about to say ‘Goodby’! We’ll have to go some to escape the suction!”