"The anchor's not fast!" cried Glennie. "It's dragging!"
Matt had already discovered that. The anchor afforded sufficient resistance to keep the bow of the boat toward the entrance of the cove, but they were sliding stern-first farther into the shoaling waters.
Dick hurried aft and began heaving the lead close to the stern.
"Two and a half!" he cried.
"Great guns!" exclaimed Glennie. "Wouldn't that knock you? It's deepening!"
"Mark three!" shouted Dick.
"Three fathoms," murmured Glennie, "and within two jumps of shore! The rocks must lie steep-to. The current's responsible for that."
The pull of the anchor continued to draw the boat around so that she was drifting broadside on.
"Deep four!" reported Dick, and began coiling up the line. The submarine was rubbing against the rocks, and there was no room to cast.
"Good luck," said Matt gleefully, "even if it does come out of a damaged propeller. We can pass a couple of cables ashore and tie up to the rocks. On deck, Speake!" he called through the hatch. "There's some old hose and canvas in the storeroom, and you, and Clackett, and Gaines had better bring it up. Fetch a couple of cables at the same time."