Without more ado the boys fell to work on their task. They cut the holes about ten feet apart. It was hard work, but they stuck to it perseveringly, and at last, from the two holes, two columns of black smoke spouted up. Luckily for their plans the wind had, by this time, moderated so much as to have fallen almost flat.
High into the heavens soared the two black columns of smoke like two pillars of inky vapor.
Every eye watched the distant yacht anxiously. For five minutes the anxiety was so intense that no one spoke. The pitch of expectancy was painful.
Then came a great cry.
"They've seen our signal!" shouted Rob.
"Yes; look, she's changing her course. Look at the black smoke coming from her funnel. She's making top speed to our rescue!" cried Merritt.
"Let's hope that she won't be too late," murmured the ensign under his breath, and then aloud he cried:
"Three cheers for the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol!"