“Listen!” Toby sat up suddenly and put his head above the coaming. They listened as hard as they could. “Hear it?” Toby demanded intensely. “Waves on the shore!”
“Right you are,” agreed Arnold joyfully. “But which way is it?”
“Over there, I think.” Toby pointed in the darkness. “I’m not sure, though. Listen again.”
It wasn’t a very loud sound that came to them, just a soft, lazy swi-i-ish such as the tiniest of waves might make against a pebbled beach. “It must be the head,” muttered Toby, scrambling to his feet. “Or else——”
But he didn’t continue just then. Instead he sat down more quickly than he had got up, and sat down in Arnold’s lap, too, a proceeding which elicited a howl of surprise and pain from that youth. The Aydee had reached land!
“Struck something!” cried Toby, finding his feet again and disappearing toward the bow. The others jumped up too and listened and stared all ways into the gloom of fog and darkness.
“See anything?” called Arnold.
“No, but there’s surf right ahead here. Bring the oar along and we’ll see how deep it is. I guess we’ve run smack up on a beach.”
The knockabout jarred again, and Arnold clutched the boom as he groped about for the oar. Then the boat performed a number of little courtesies, the boom swung slowly to port and the Aydee settled down for the night with her port rail just out of water!