“It’s a lantern,” cried Frank; “somebody’s waving it.”
Dr. Perkins confirmed Frank’s supposition, and the Sea Eagle, on her errand of rescue, was headed for the swinging pin-point of light in the distance.
CHAPTER XIII.—A TWENTIETH-CENTURY RESCUE.
As he flew his craft in the direction of the feeble beacon of distress, Dr. Perkins once more switched on the searchlight. Its comforting beam shot across the sea, and finally ceased its swaying and centered on a strange sight. As a dark scene in a theater is illumined at one single point by the calcium light, so the search rays concentrated themselves on a striking picture of distress at sea.
Framed in the circle of white light the boys could see a small gasolene craft, apparently up to the rails in the water. At any rate nothing of the hull but a narrow white strip could be seen, while, on the top of the raised deck cabin crouched the figures of three men. One of these had been swinging the lantern, but he ceased as the bright light from the Sea Eagle bathed the group in its rays. One single mast arose high above the pitching hull, and from it could be seen wires strung down to the cabin top. Evidently this was the wireless apparatus which had been the means of bringing the Boy Aviators and their friend to the rescue.
The yacht could not have been more than fifty feet in length—a very small craft to be equipped with wireless; but her owner, if he was on board, must have been congratulating himself at that very moment on his wise precaution.
It was but a few minutes after the searchlight had first revealed the Wanderer and her distressed company that the Sea Eagle was swinging in a graceful, birdlike circle in the air above the sinking craft.
Frank seized up a small megaphone, which formed part of the sea and sky ship’s equipment.
“Ahoy! Aboard the yacht!” he cried.
“Ahoy!” came back the cry, with a note of incredulous wonder in it, as well there might be, considering the extraordinary circumstances.