The Zoe was afloat once more.
Ned came very near giving vent to a cry of triumph, which might have awakened his friends, and that was exactly what he did not want to do.
He wished them to sleep on until morning and, coming out to look for him, see the little craft rising and falling on the swell as if she had never known what it was to come in contact with the bank; therefore he remained silent, hauling in on the cables until she was riding within a short distance of the anchors.
It would have pleased him immensely had it been possible to have pulled the steamer around into the bay, and he would have made the attempt if he had had a boat; but there was too much risk in trying to tow her alone, with the raft as a craft, therefore it only remained to pass the hours of darkness in the most comfortable manner possible.
The port lockers were comparatively dry, and on one of these in the after cabin he prepared to continue his nap; but the feeling of triumph was so strong in his mind that quite a while elapsed before slumber visited his eyelids.
Fortunately, so far as the plans for enjoying his triumph were concerned, he awakened at an early hour, and was on deck busying himself with examining the rigging when Roy appeared at the flap of the tent.
The boy was evidently surprised at not having been called when the tide was at its height, and was looking around for Ned when he saw the change which had been made in the position of the yacht.
For an instant he remained motionless, as if speechless with astonishment, and then gave vent to a series of cheers which brought Vance from the tent in short order.
“How did you get the yacht afloat?” the latter asked in astonishment as he ran to the shore.
“Pulled her off, of course. You fellows believed she couldn’t be launched for two or three days, so I thought it would be a good chance to prove you were mistaken.”