“You’ve raised her three or four inches already. I’ve put in new wedges, and if you’ll take a whack at the other cable she’ll be in fair condition for the next tide.”
The boys worked with a will until nearly dark, and then the yacht was in a better position than even Ned had dared to hope for.
She was very nearly on a level keel, a slight heel shoreward only showing that she was aground, and her stern had been hauled around a couple of feet, so much so, in fact, that the lead-line showed deep water directly beneath the screw.
“We must keep awake this night, or leave one fellow on watch,” Ned said after the tide had fallen so much that it would have been a useless expenditure of strength to work longer, “and when it’s high water once more I expect to see her afloat.”
“It can’t be done so soon,” Vance said decidedly as they walked toward the tent. “We may possibly succeed by the day after to-morrow; but not before.”
“That remains to be seen,” Ned replied with a laugh. “We’ll get something in the way of dinner, and then decide whether all three or only one shall stand watch.”
Now that the “ghost” had been laid, the experiment of floating the yacht evidently a future success, and matters in what Roy called “comfortable shape” once more, the little party was in the best of spirits.
Roy fairly outdid himself in the way of preparing dinner, and the tired wreckers ate until it seemed as if food would never again be necessary.
Since it would not be high water until about midnight, it was thought useless for all hands to remain awake, therefore hourly watches were begun from nine o’clock, the time set for retiring, until twelve, when the work would be commenced once more.
The question of who should “do the first trick” was settled by drawing lots, and it so chanced that Ned was the one selected for the last hour.