“She’ll never fly again,” added Bill.
They put the fenders over the side to avoid scraping, and Lester tossed a coil of rope over a butt that rose at the end of the stern. He held the ends, while Teddy shinned up like a monkey and fastened it more securely. Then Fred and Bill went up, while Lester stayed below to look after the safety of his craft.
“Aren’t you fellows coming along?” asked Fred, looking down over the stern.
“I guess not,” replied Lester. “I’ve seen lots of wrecks in my time, and I want to make sure that the Ariel doesn’t make another.”
“How about you, Ross?” inquired Teddy.
“I’ll stay and keep Lester company,” Ross answered, as he brought the Sleuth a little closer. “You can tell us what you see, which can’t be much, I suppose, after all this time.”
After a little more friendly urging, the others acquiesced in the arrangement and went forward, cautiously testing each plank before they set their 222 feet down, for fear it might give way under them.
A certain feeling of eeriness settled down upon them. Living men, hearty, boisterous, vigorous men, full of the joy of life, had trodden these planks when the vessel was in her prime and winging her way over the seas as swiftly as the gull whose name she bore. Now the hungry waves had swallowed them, and the subdued chanting of the water along her side might well be their requiem.
Instinctively the boys drew closer together, and their voices lowered almost to a whisper.
“Makes you feel kind of creepy, doesn’t it?” remarked Bill.