The three boats had been wallowing on the heaving seas while power was shut off; but no sooner did they pick up their course again, than this sickening motion gave way to that of progress.
George took off his coat, and got busy. He was considerable of a mechanic, and at least possessed the commendable trait of persistence. Once he had started to do a thing he never rested satisfied until it was accomplished.
“Seems like you’re doing just as well pulling that wreck as we are alone!” called Herb from the Comfort, which was not more than fifty feet away.
George’s head came into view above the gunwale of the speed boat, but somehow this time he was feeling quite too bad to take up cudgels in defense of his craft. Besides, there was truth in calling her a wreck just then. So he ducked down once more and pretended not to have heard the sarcastic allusion.
“Just what I expected when I proposed to tow George,” Jack answered; and then he turned the glasses ahead to a point that seemed to interest him considerably.
“Think that can be the place?” asked Herb, still watching him closely.
“I believe it is, yes, and hope so, too,” came the reply, together with a significant glance upward to where the clouds were beginning to shut out the sun, now on its way down the western sky.
“I see you’re edging in more?” Herb continued.
“That’s right,” answered Jack; “we’d better be as near land as we dare go. It may mean a heap to us sooner or later.”
They went on for some time, with things seeming to be no different, only the clouds kept covering the sky, making the water look dark and forbidding. Indeed, all of the boys were now considerably alarmed. The storm seemed to be getting closer, and their haven had not as yet hove in sight.