"You see," remarked Kroom, as if answering him, "as soon as the commander of a ship knows he's going to be wrecked, it's his duty to save those things. He must save his log and his papers, if he can't save anything else. Captain Pickering got 'em together, and then somebody beat him out of them. Now it's my duty to get 'em to the owner of the ship. No trouble about that, but we must learn all we can first. Sam, if you've read anything, read it out. It's the worst kind of writing."
That was what Sam had found, and he had had some doubt as to how much it was right for him to read. Now, however, he was getting more courageous. It seemed so much more honest than merely fishing up things and keeping them. He read, therefore, a line or so at a time, picking it out; but it required an interpreter, for all the sentences were short and jerky.
"Stop there!" said Captain Kroom. "I'll fix it up. Never mind his latitudes and longitudes. She was a three-master, and she was in the China trade, and she was getting near home when the hurricane struck her. We had the heel of that gale all along shore last week. Blew down trees and upset things. I'll bet you the Narragansett went to pieces. Hurrah! There's the inlet. Hand me that log. I'll just shut it up. Now, boys, I'll show you what a boat of this kind can do."
"Don't you be afraid, Sam," said Pete, encouragingly. "It'll be awful rough outside the bar, but he knows. We're going right through."
RUNNING OUT OF THE INLET.
Sam did not exactly feel afraid, but he was disposed to keep a tight hold upon the gunwale of the Elephant. There was really a great deal of her, he was beginning to see, and pretty soon she was gliding along over the smooth water of the inlet. It was a channel, not straight by any means, that was nowhere over a hundred yards wide. On either side were only long ranges of low sand hills and marshes. The bay was behind them, and right ahead, Sam could not guess how far away, he could hear a booming sound, that came, he knew, from the great Atlantic billows which came rolling in to thunder and die along the shore.
"Bully breeze!" shouted Pete. "Out we go! Hurrah! Look at the surf!"
Sam was staring very earnestly indeed at the long lines of foaming water that were springing into the air, curling over and tossing to and fro in shattered masses of froth and blue. He knew that there was danger in them, and he felt queer concerning what might be coming next.
The Captain, however, was sitting as steadily as usual. Sam had seen him take something out of the valise before closing it, but he had not dared to ask any questions. He was almost afraid of Captain Kroom, and even now, as he looked at him, he was thinking: