In this world many things are measured by circumstances. To the drowning man a straw is worth clutching for.
After ten minutes of incessant labor Clif straightened up and announced what was patent to his companions.
“Only a foot of water left, fellows. We can stand that for a time.”
“If we only had oars or something to keep the blessed craft before the wind we’d stand a show of living until morning,” said Joy.
“We look for things,” announced the Japanese youth, suiting the action to the words.
Clif continued bailing as a heavy wave had thrown more water over the side. Joy and Trolley started to search the boat forward.
There were speedy results. An eager cry came from Joy, and he called back:
“Here’s a find, Clif. The boat’s mast and sails are still fastened to the seats where they were before she capsized. Hurrah! We can do something now.”
Clif ceased bailing in a jiffy and scrambled forward. He found his companions tugging away at a long, shapeless mass, which resolved itself into a mast and a damp, soggy leg-o’-mutton sail.
“This is great,” he exclaimed, exultantly. “It means that we can manage to keep afloat and make a little headway, anyway. It can’t be far to the coast of Portugal, and if the old Monongahela don’t turn up we’ll take a cruise of our own.”