"Yes, probably the explosion blew it out. The boat floats well. Maybe we can save that."
"Got to get this poor boy first. Oh, if he could only swim out a little farther we could throw him a line. Hey there!" he called to the lad, "we're coming! Can you make your way over here? We daren't come in any closer."
There was no answer, but the desperately struggling lad waved his one good arm to show that he had heard. Then he resumed his battle with the sea—an unequal battle.
"Plucky boy!" murmured Frank. "I'm going to save him. He can never swim out this far."
Andy had thrown the boat up in the wind, had lowered the sail so that she was now riding the waves comparatively motionless, for there came a lull in the gale.
Then, even as Frank spoke, the unfortunate lad again disappeared from sight.
"He's gone—for good this time I guess," spoke Andy, and there was a solemn note in his faltering voice.
"No! There he is again!" fairly yelled Frank. "I'm going overboard for him."
"You can't swim in this sea!" objected his brother. "There'll be two drowned instead of one."
"I can do it!" firmly declared the older lad. He began to take off his shoes, and divest himself of his heavier garments.