“She’s not anchored at all,” he shouted across to Arnold. “She’s drifting side-on. And—hello!”
“What?” asked the other.
“What do you make of those pennants she’s flying?”
Arnold, crouching at the side wheel, screened his eyes and gazed at the bits of colored bunting flapping from the little signal mast. “One’s white and the other’s—the other’s blue-and-white, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s J. But can you see if the white pennant’s got a red disk?”
“I think so. Yes, it has! What’s it mean?”
“C. J.; disabled and need assistance,” answered Toby. “Run over, and see what’s up. Engine’s broken down, I suspect. There’s some one waving to us.”
The Urnove turned her length to the seas and, rocking and pitching, headed for the launch in distress.