“If we have a chance, you’ll see,” was Alec’s even more confident answer. The vague possibility implied in Baley’s question gave him an adventurous thrill.
When these three reached the end of their beat and turned back toward the starting point, they were surprised to meet Culver. He had been sent out to keep watch with Baley, for Keeper Anderson thought it best to have four men on patrol that night. Larry Flynn had been sent to reinforce Downs.
When the first watch was over, four other surfmen took the places of those on duty; but the boys were quite ready to seek the “shakedowns” prepared for them. The long night hours passed, and daylight crept slowly and feebly across a cloudy sky and over a turbulent sea.
CHAPTER VII.
THE STRANDED SCHOONER.
“It’s lucky we went across to the mainland last week for a fresh supply o’ provisions,” remarked Larry Flynn at breakfast that morning. “I’m as hungry as a tinker’s goat, and them lads can stow away enough fodder for a whole regiment of——”
His jocularity was interrupted by a laugh from the men, and then by a strange and sinister sound. Beneath the howl of the wind could be heard a dull booming, so foreign to anything the gale brought to their ears that even Captain Anderson sprang from his seat at table and ran to the window in alarm.
It was useless. The fog was so thick he could not see further than twenty feet. The gray light of day had dispelled the darkness, but the vapor rolling in from the ocean obscured even the crests of the surf. Culver and Ed Strong joined him at the window, and all three remained silent and motionless.
“Never dreamed she’d run aground this morning,” Bowers muttered, rising from his chair. “Everybody thought she’d slip past the bar.”
“There was only a slim chance, after all,” said Downs.
“Has the ship struck?” asked Hugh, tense with excitement.