Both of them felt the sudden jerk that announced the expected event.
“She’s turning right away, Jack!” bellowed Josh, trying to make himself heard above the heavy boom of the thunder’s growl.
There could be no doubt on that score, for already the motions of the runaway motorboat seemed to be much less violent. Jack believed his scheme was going to be a success, and it pleased him to know that his wetting would not have been taken for nothing.
They lingered no longer, but started back toward the stern. It was not quite so difficult now to creep along the slippery deck, holding on to the cabin roof, and finally reaching the open well in the stern. A head was in sight, showing that one of the anxious chums could not rest easy until he learned what the result of the venture had been.
“You must have done it, fellows!” exclaimed Buster, for it was no other than the stout boy who had thrust his head out like a tortoise, “because she rides so much easier now. I knew Jack’d manage it if anybody could.”
Drenched as they were, the two boys had to drop down under the tarpaulin. After all, that was a minor matter, since by their bold action they had warded off what might have turned out to be a grave disaster.
“Let her blow and thunder all she wants to now,” said Josh triumphantly; “we’ve got the anchor trailing from the bow, and that’s going to keep her nose in the wind. I’ve read how a vessel nearly going down in a hurricane has been saved by making a storm anchor out of hatches, or anything else that will float, and towing the same behind to keep the ship steady. That’s what we did, you see.”
Josh was more than glad now he had insisted on accompanying the commodore in attempting to carry out his hazardous undertaking. It would give him an opportunity to swell with importance whenever the deed was mentioned, and to use the magical word “we” in speaking of the adventure. What boy is there who does not like to feel that he personally partook of the danger when brave things were undertaken and accomplished?