“Now, Kid, you go inside the cabin and sit down. You’re likely to get hurt if you don’t. If it gets too rough for you, just lay right down in a bunk. Don’t take no chances on breakin’ an arm or somethin’.”
Jimmy obeyed. The rum runner threw off his lines. He opened his throttle. The ship left her little harbor. In a moment she was tossing wildly on the waves of the open lake. The owner gave his engine more gas. The craft forged ahead. Jimmy had never had such a ride. Like a chip in a whirlpool the little boat was thrown about. Now it leaped high upward. Now it dropped downward with a suggestiveness that almost made Jimmy sick. Now it struck a huge wave, that came crashing back over it, and the impact made the sturdy craft tremble and quiver. But all the time it bored straight through the sea, its motor roaring, its propeller whirling wildly as the stern was thrown up out of the water. At times it plunged headlong down the slope of a great wave, only to go crashing into the following crest. It shook and shivered. It groaned and creaked. But not for one instant did the motor falter or its deep-throated roar subside.
Almost before he knew it, Jimmy found himself in calmer water. The boat still rose and fell. It still rocked and swayed. But there was a perceptible difference in its motions. They were less violent. The sea was not so turbulent. The craft wallowed less in the waves. And the farther they went the smoother their passage continued to grow.
Jimmy rightly guessed that the boat was in the lee of the island. It was, in fact, driving into a little cove or bay, well protected, on the leeward side of the island. When Jimmy looked out and saw land to right and left of him he was amazed. They had made the trip to the island in astonishingly little time. Despite wind and wave, the rum runner’s powerful boat had crossed the three miles of water with great speed. Now the craft ran swiftly up the little bay and slid to a grating stop at a little landing at the very end of the cove.
“Come on,” said the rum runner, making his boat fast. “I’ll take you over to the wreck.”
Rapidly he led the way across the island, which just here was hardly a mile wide. Then the two made their way out to the end of a long point of land, on the tip of which lay the stranded vessel. It was driven far up on the sands. Only a few hundred feet of water separated it from the shore. But those few hundred feet were frightful to behold. On this windward side of the island the sea was terrible. Huge waves came roaring in from the open lake, to crash against the helpless ship and go thundering completely over it. Jimmy looked at the scene with an awe that bordered on terror. Never before had he beheld such an exhibition of the fury of wind and wave.
Near by was a cottage. Lights still shone in the windows.
“The folks in that house ought to be able to tell us something about the wreck,” shouted Jimmy to his companion. “Let’s go talk to them.”
They walked to the cottage and knocked at the door. It was opened promptly and they stepped inside. A great fire was blazing in the hearth. Before it sat a man half dressed. Articles of clothing were hanging before the blaze. The man seemed distressed.
Jimmy introduced himself to the cottager. The man recalled him at once as the flier who had brought help from the city during the winter.