Minute followed minute. The little craft strained and pulled. She rose and fell in the sea. Her propeller churned the waters into yeasty foam. Link by link the anchor-chain was heaved in. Foot by foot the Iroquois crept ahead, but she was only making the wire cable taut. The Capitol City had not budged. Glasses to eyes, the captain studied the great steamer as her propeller drove round and round in the swirling water. Critically he watched the waves sweep past her sides, for continually the glaring light of the Iroquois was focused on the helpless steamer. Still the tide rose higher, though now but slowly. Every inch counted now. A few more inches and the vessel on the sands ought almost to float of herself.
On deck the sailors watched the tide with anxious eyes. Well they knew what a little more water would mean to the success of their efforts. From time to time they dropped bits of wood over the sides, to see whether the tide was still carrying toward the shore. Anon they studied the wire cable now stretched tighter than a fiddlestring. The tide continued to rise, though now almost imperceptibly. Then it hesitated, halted, and stood still. It was at flood. With every ounce of power they possessed the two steamships strained and struggled. The tide paused, as though to give them ample opportunity. Then, almost imperceptibly, it turned and began to flow out toward the sea. And at that instant the lights on the Capitol City flashed forth, and a moment later young Belford came racing up to the bridge with a message for the captain.
“The Capitol City is moving,” he said. Then he turned and raced back to his post.
A shout went up as the sailors sensed the import of his message. Every eye was focused on the stranded steamer. For a moment no motion was discernible in her. Then plainly she could be seen to move. The shout was followed by a cheer, for now the big steamer was plainly ploughing through the waves. Little by little she gained momentum. Moment by moment the Iroquois drove ahead faster. But it was no easy task that faced her. No tractable tow was this behind her. With broken rudder, and advancing stern foremost, the Capitol City yawed badly. Nevertheless, she came on behind the Iroquois, as the latter forged ahead, heaving in her anchor-chain fathom after fathom, and fighting her way out to the depths.
By the time the anchor was heaved aboard, the wind had lessened markedly. No longer was it blowing from the east. It was shifting, working around to the north. The tide now was running out strong. There was no danger that either wind or tide would carry the rescued vessel back to the shoals again. When the captain of the Iroquois judged it to be safe, he stopped the cutter. With great care the crew of the Capitol City shifted the towing cable from stern to bow, and made it fast to the forward bitts. When this was done, the Iroquois pointed her nose into the wind, gradually got under way, and with the disabled steamer behind her, headed once more for the city of Paul Revere. It was the nearest harbor in which the crippled vessel could find refuge.
CHAPTER XIII
HENRY FINDS HE HAS AN ENEMY
Slowly the staunch little cutter steamed ahead. Had it not been for the broken rudder, the Capitol City could have gone on her way, unattended, as she was little damaged. But with her rudder injured, she was in a bad way. Although it was not entirely gone, and it helped somewhat in guiding the ship, still at times the huge craft yawed badly. By paying out more cable Captain Hardwick partly overcame this tendency to yaw. Nevertheless it was difficult enough to make headway, for the wind had now whipped around almost to the north, and for a time the two ships had to sail into the teeth of it. The Capitol City could not use the full power of her engines, but she kept her propeller turning, and this greatly lessened the burden on the cutter. Unless some unforeseen difficulty should arise, the two vessels would have no trouble in reaching their port.
There was much to be done on both ships, however. The captain of the disabled steamer wanted to get in touch with his agents, and inform them of the safety of the vessel. His wireless was still out of commission, and his messages had first to be sent to the Iroquois by blinkers and then relayed by wireless. So both Henry and his friend Belford were kept busy for a long time. Then, too, Henry had to get in touch with the Coast Guard land station where the men from the Iroquois had found shelter, and send instructions concerning them. The captain felt that he could operate the Iroquois with his little force for the short run to Boston and thence to New York. His men were willing to do double duty. It was necessary for him to get back to New York at the earliest possible moment. The run to Boston would require only a few hours. Then he could retrace his steps immediately. It was simpler to have the seamen go direct to New York and rejoin the Iroquois there, than to wait for them in Boston. So Henry got in touch with the land station and communicated the captain’s orders to that effect.
By the time the two young wireless men had finished their tasks, they were about worn out. It was far into the night. Belford had been on duty for many hours. Henry, though not on duty so long, was almost exhausted by the nervous strain under which he had been working. Furthermore, he would have to respond, at any moment, to any call for wireless communication.
“We must get to bed,” he said the moment their tasks were done. “Won’t you please call the other operator? Then we can arrange our watches.”