“Strange how the Northland brings such different characters together in such strong partnership,” said Case, musingly. “I wonder if Bill would have done as much for Jud. I doubt it.”
A cry from Alex brought him back from his musings. The little lad’s freckled face was pale. “The cable’s parted. We are going on the rocks. Start her up, Clay. For the love of heaven, start her up.”
CHAPTER XII
A CLOSE CALL
Clay had just finished working the oil out of the engine and was examining it to see if the vandals had broken anything, when Alex called. With calm quickness, he threw on the switch, rocked the fly wheel over, and shoved the timer over to full speed. At the first throb of the motor. Case had sprung to the wheel and ground it hard over. The Rambler trembled like an overworked race horse. She hung in the trough of a sea that threatened to swamp her for a moment, then gallantly she swung around, meeting the next sea bow on, plunging bow under and sending great showers of spray over the cabin, she leaped away into the teeth of the wind.
“For goodness sake. Clay, shut down that motor some,” Alex begged. “She will bury herself in some of the big waves.”
“I thought you wanted speed from the yell you let out a minute ago.”
“I did,” Alex retorted. “Then I was afraid of going on the rocks. Now I’m afraid of going down in a submarine.”
Clay shoved the timer over to half speed and the Rambler rode the high swells more easily. On looking at their watches, the boys were surprised to find that all their terrifying experience which had occurred had taken place in less than an hour, during which time they had drifted about a mile from Nome. It took the speedy little launch but a short time to cover the distance and they soon moored securely again to the little pier.
The boys were all hungry, and Case immediately began frying eggs and bacon and making coffee while the other boys hung around saying little and even breakfast was eaten without the usual clatter of conversation.