“It doesn’t seem possible that they can get her off, or, even if that might be done, that she would be fit for sea again.”
“In a mishap like this the worst of the mischief is all on the outside, lad. Most likely her hull is as sound as ever, and it only remains to get her afloat, when a little carpenter-work will finish the job. It’s a pity the steamers couldn’t go alongside, for then she might be raised in short order.”
The wrecking tugs were lying some distance off shore, and lighters had been drifted down over the shoal to the steamer’s side. A large number of men were at work making ready to break the cargo; others were running out anchors to prevent her being driven any further ashore, and yet another crew was gathering up the odds and ends which had been driven ashore.
Half a dozen small boats were moving back and forth from the steamer to the shore, and after surveying the scene from the cliff until the chilling wind suggested a retreat, Sam Hardy said:
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go on board, lad. What do you say to looking the old hooker over?”
“Do you think they’ll allow us on her, sir?”
“I reckon there won’t be any great row about it, lad. After what our crew, an’ especially you, have done, it would be odd if we should be warned to keep off.”
Benny was eager for a nearer view of the steamer, and Sam led the way down to the narrow beach where so much of heroism had been displayed.
“Hello, mates, will you take us off to the wreck?” Sam cried to four men who were launching a surf-boat bearing the name of a well-known wrecking tug.
“That we will, although I should think you might have seen enough already of yonder steamer,” one of the party replied cheerily.