“He’s broken his rope; the coal’s adrift!” he cried.
Dick saw the tug’s lights vanish, which meant that she had turned with her stern towards the launch; and then two or three twinkling specks some distance off.
“He’d tow the first craft with a double rope, a bridle from his quarters,” he said. “It’s strange that both parts broke, and, so far as I can make out, the tail barge has parted her hawser, too.”
A whistle rang out, and Dick called for full-speed as the tug’s green light showed.
“We’ll help him to pick up the barges,” he remarked.
The moon shone out as they approached the nearest, and a bright beam swept across the sea until it touched the lurching craft. Her wet side glistened about a foot above the water and then vanished as a white surge lapped over it and washed across her deck. A rope trailed from her bow and her long tiller jerked to and fro. It was obvious that she was adrift with nobody on board, and Dick cautiously steered the launch towards her.
“That’s curious, but perhaps the rest drove foul of her and the helmsman lost his nerve and jumped,” he said. “I’ll put Maccario on board to give us the hawser.”
“Then I’ll go with him,” Jake offered. “He can’t handle the big rope alone.”
Dick hesitated. It was important that they should not lose the coal, but he did not want to give the lad a dangerous task. The barge was rolling wildly and he durst not run alongside, while some risk would attend a jump across the three or four feet of water between the craft.
“I think you’d better stop here,” he objected.