Jacob Farnum made a wild dash for his office, telephoning for a messenger boy. While waiting he wrote two telegrams in feverish haste.
Several of the newspaper people wrote hasty, excited dispatches to their papers for the evening editions. The messenger boy, when he arrived on a run, was all but loaded down with paper. Then the yard's owner and the newspaper folks dashed back to the shore.
Out on the harbor the water lay unruffled. There was not a sign of the suspected tragedy that lay beneath the waves.
"It's an hour and a half since the boat sank," called one of the correspondents.
"What were the boys supposed to do, anyway?" insisted another.
Jacob Farnum opened his mouth, as though to speak, then closed it again.
"Tell us," insisted one woman.
"Yes, tell us," insisted a man.
Just then, there came a shout over the waters. "Say, you lubbers, what did you move that boat for?"
There was an instant gasp from all who turned so swiftly to look out over the water.