The response that came back through the darkness caused his heart to give a bound of delight.
“Jack Chadwick and Tom Jesson. That you, Dick?”
“Yes, yes, yes! Hurry up, fellows! Your dad and the rest of them are in that cabin, Jack, and the place is awash. The water’s gaining every minute.”
The boys groped their way to his side in a jiffy. There was no time for greetings just then. The three lads rushed for the door of the cabin in which Jack’s father and the others were imprisoned. But a shock awaited them. There was no key in the outside of the door. Nor did it yield to Jack’s furious poundings.
“Dad! dad! are you all right?” cried the boy.
“Thank Heaven it’s you, Jack!” came from within. “Get this door open somehow, will you? The water in here is rising all the time.”
“Yes,—yes,” responded Jack, feeling about desperately for some means of opening that door.
While he did so, the three boys were almost thrown off their feet by the sudden settling of the yacht as she subsided more deeply into the land which she had struck.
In the darkness some object came rolling across the cabin floor. It struck Jack’s knees, inflicting a painful blow. But the boy gave a simultaneous exclamation of delight.
“Hurrah! Here’s just the thing!” he cried, “one of the cabin chairs. They must have unscrewed it to feed the furnaces with.”