The latter explained the position of the stranded vessel so clearly that the boy, who was familiar with the locality, comprehended it in a moment.
"She's about a mile from the mouth of the creek, and a quarter off shore," said the man. "When the tide went down I partly swum and partly waded to the beach. I don't know how I ever got ashore alive, but the thought of poor Rust out there kinder nerved me on, and so I made it at last. I wouldn't do it again, though, for all the money in Key West. Now I've been here so long waiting for help, and the tide's rising again so fast, that I'm afraid it's all day with poor Rust. If he ain't swept off the wrack by this time he soon will be, and I don't know as there is anything can be done for him. It wouldn't be possible for the schooner to get anywhere near the wrack, she's dragged in so fur over the reefs, and the small boat isn't built that could live in them seas."
"Yes, she is," said Sumner, quietly, but with a very pale face; "this boat that I am sitting in can live out there, and she's got to do it, too." So saying, he set his double-bladed paddle into the sand, and with a vigorous shove sent the light craft gliding backward into deep water.
The man stared at him in speechless amazement, while the Lieutenant called out: "Don't try it, Sumner! You must be crazy to think of such a thing! You'll only be throwing away your own life for nothing! Come back, and we'll think of some other plan."
"There isn't time to think of another plan," Sumner called back over his shoulder. "I must go, and I know I can do it. If you will have some of the men out there on the beach, ready to help us land, we'll make it easy enough. Good-bye!"
Impelled by vigorous strokes of Sumner's paddle, the Psyche was already gliding down the smooth waters of the sheltered creek, and it was too late to restrain the impetuous young canoeman from carrying out his project. Realizing this, and also that Sumner's plan, hazardous as it seemed, was the only feasible one, Lieutenant Carey, with a heavy heart, set about doing his own share of the work in hand. He took the stranger off to the schooner, and after swallowing a cup of hot coffee, of which he stood greatly in need, the man declared himself ready to guide a party to the beach opposite the place where the sloop lay.
Dinner was ready and waiting on board the Transit, but nobody thought of stopping to eat a mouthful after learning the news of what was taking place. The sole anxiety was to reach the beach as quickly as possible. The instant the stranger said he was ready, all hands, except those ordered to remain by the schooner, began to tumble into the available canoes, eager to be set ashore.
Poor Worth was sadly distressed when he heard of the terrible task undertaken by his friend, but he tried to cheer himself and the others by declaring that if any boat could live outside it was the canoe Psyche, and if any living sailor could carry her through the seas, whose angry roar filled the air, it was Sumner Rankin.
In the mean time the brave young fellow who was the object of all this anxiety had reached the mouth of the creek. There, in a sheltered spot, he paused for a few minutes to take breath and make his final preparations for a plunge into the roaring breakers outside.