"Jolly decent of them," said Hayes.
A quarter of an hour later, the two vessels were within hailing distance.
"Hello! Armitage," called out Mr. Graham. "Going to give us a tow in?"
"Wish we could," was the reply. "We're broken down—out of fuel."
"Tank's leaking," supplemented Woodleigh, to dispel any suggestion that the fault lay in not providing sufficient fuel. "It's done that before, but we thought we'd fixed it up all right."
The Spindrift ran alongside the "fifty-four footer", and a line was thrown and made fast. Although the breeze still held, the sea was comparatively smooth.
"You can't tow us," objected Mr. Armitage. "You've as much as you can do to carry on with that broken mast. I was about to send a boat ashore for some paraffin."
"No need," replied Mr. Graham. "Your engine will run on petrol. We can let you have a couple of tins—three if necessary, and we've about three gallons of paraffin for the stove. You can have that."
"What are you doing with petrol, then?" asked Mr. Armitage.
"Oh, we've a motor too," replied Desmond proudly. "A dinky little outboard."