“I don’t,” Jake answered with a laugh. “Guess you’ve got to be logical. You want the coal, and it will take us both to save it.”
He followed the fireman, who stood, balancing himself for a spring, on the forward deck, while Dick let the launch swing in as close as he thought safe. The man leapt and Dick watched Jake with keen anxiety as the launch rose with the next comber, but the lad sprang off as the bows went up, and came down with a splash in the water that flowed across the lighter’s deck. Then Dick caught the line thrown him and with some trouble dragged the end of the hawser on board. He was surprised to find that it was not broken, but he waved his hand to the others as he drove the launch ahead, steering for the beach, near which he expected to find a passage through the reef.
Before he had gone far the tug steamed towards him with the other barges in tow, apparently bound for Adexe.
“It is not possible to go on,” the skipper hailed. “Give me a rope; we take the lighter.”
“You shan’t take her to Adexe,” Dick shouted. “We want the coal.”
Though there was danger in getting too close, the captain let the tug drift nearer.
“We bring you the lot when the wind drops.”
“No,” said Dick, “I’ll stick to what I’ve got.”
He could not catch the captain’s reply as the tug forged past, but it sounded like an exclamation of anger or surprise, and he looked anxiously for the foam upon the reef. It was some time before he distinguished a glimmer in the dark, for the moon was hidden and his progress was slow. The lighter was big and heavily laden, and every now and then her weight, putting a sudden strain on the hawser, jerked the launch to a standstill. It was worse when, lifting with the swell, she sheered off at an angle to her course, and Dick was forced to maneuver with helm and engine to bring her in line again, at some risk of fouling the hawser with the screw. He knew little about towing, but he had handled small sailing boats before he learned to use the launch. The coal was badly needed and must be taken to Santa Brigida, though an error of judgment might lead to the loss of the barge and perhaps of his comrade’s life.
The phosphorescent gleam of the surf got plainer and the water smoother, for the reef was now to windward and broke the sea, but the moon was still covered, and Dick felt some tension as he skirted the barrier. He did not know if he could find the opening or tow the lighter through the narrow channel. The surf, however, was of help, for it flashed into sheets of spangled radiance as it washed across the reef, leaving dark patches among the lambent foam. The patches had a solid look, and Dick knew that they were rocks.