“Sand-bar,” shouted Jack in Bee’s ear. “Got over it!”
Seaward the rockets still flared in the darkness. It already seemed hours since they had started, although it is probable that they had been going but a scant fifteen minutes. Jack shouted to Bee and Bee scrambled back to inform Hal that they had passed the old bridge.
“He says it’s only about three-quarters of a mile further to the track,” cried Bee. “We’re near Bill Glass’s place now. How’s she running?”
“Fine.” Hal squirted some oil in the general direction of the engine. Then the oil-can flew out of his hand and he sat down forcibly on the grating, with Bee on top of him. The Corsair had brought up with a jolt!
“Stop her!” came Jack’s voice faintly. “Reverse! Quick!”
Hal, gathering himself up, grabbed at the lever. The propeller churned and the Corsair shivered. Jack hurried back.
“She’s hard aground,” he shouted. “Have you reversed her?”
“Yes.”
“Where are the oars?”