They had a desperate struggle with the guy, but Harry laughed gayly when they had made it fast.
"They'll follow us on to Bannington's, sure," he said. "We should be there in half an hour, and I don't mind allowing that I'll be glad to get some of this sail off her."
After a while a black bank of cloud spread across the moon, and Frank wondered anxiously how much of the half hour had gone. He had now only the pull on the tiller to guide him as they drove on furiously, and the strain of concentrating all his faculties on his task was beginning to tell on his strength. Once or twice he imagined that he came perilously near to bringing the mainboom over, and he would have called Harry to the helm if he had felt certain that he could cling to the slender lurching spar as well as his comrade could. He was getting nervous, and the seething rush of water past the boat was becoming bewildering.
At length, however, he made out a dark and hazy mass over the edge of the mainsail, which he supposed was land, and in another few minutes a blinking light appeared. He called to Harry, who merely twisted himself around on the boom with the object of looking out beneath the sail and then told him to keep her heading as she was. After that the land rose rapidly, growing blacker, and a second light appeared. This was closer to them and Frank, thinking he saw it move, noticed a green blink beneath it.
Presently both lights disappeared behind the sail, and some minutes later Frank almost let go the tiller as the deep blast of a steamer's whistle rang out close ahead. On the instant Harry swung himself down from the boom.
"Let go your guy!" he shouted. "Down helm; get the mainsheet in!"
Frank could never clearly remember all that followed in the next two or three minutes during which he was desperately busy. He let the spinnaker guy run, and the big sail which heaved up the spar beneath it swung wildly forward. Then he shoved down his helm, and the mainboom slashed furiously as the boat came up toward the wind. The sheet blocks seemed to be banging everywhere about him as he hauled at the rope, and he could hear nothing but the savage thrashing of loosened canvas. Harry was struggling forward with a mass of billowing sail that threatened to sweep him off the narrow deck, while flying ropes whipped about him. Presently, out of the din, there rose another sonorous blast of the steamer's whistle.
The next moment Frank saw her, heading, it seemed, straight for them, blazing with tiers of lights, and in almost nerveless haste he pulled up his tiller. The bolt fell off, he saw Harry flung down with the spinnaker rolling about him, and he scarcely dared to breathe as the rows of lights ahead lengthened and the black wedge of the steamer's bows faded from his sight. It was now her side he was gazing at, and it was evident that she was swinging around. In less than another minute she had forged past them, and leaving the helm he scrambled forward to aid his companion. For a moment they had a brief struggle with flying ropes and billowing sail, and then they clambered back into the well, where Frank sat down with a gasp of fervent satisfaction.
"Well," he panted, "I'm glad that's over, and you had better take the helm. I've had enough."
Harry glanced toward the steamer, which was growing less distinct.