“I don’t quite see that,” said Lynton obstinately, as if he did not like being taught by the American.
“Never mind about understanding it,” said Briscoe sharply. “We’ll work it out afterwards. You must act now.”
“I am acting,” said Lynton. “We’re sailing right away.”
“But the current’s taking us up, Lynton,” said Brace quickly.
“Well, I can’t set more sail, nor make any more wind, can I? We seem to be getting more into shelter here.”
“But you can order the men to get out the oars,” cried Brace.
“Or else drop the grapnel and try to come to an anchor,” said Briscoe.
“Ah, yes,” cried Lynton; “we’d better do that. Perhaps the wind will rise a bit more soon. Over with that grapnel, my lads,” he shouted to the men forward.
The sailors had been listening to every word, and quick as thought the little four-fluked boat anchor was tossed over the bows, and the line ran out to the extreme limit.
Brace watched anxiously for the iron to catch in the bottom and check their way. But he looked in vain.