Again the "Dart" staggered and shook. For an instant, the boys fairly held their breath. Then Sam Randall made an alarming discovery.
"Great Cæsar!" he cried. "The piece of wood which plugged up that hole in the side is gone!"
"And the water is just pouring in," added Havens, in a voice which betrayed both surprise and agitation.
"Oh, why did we ever come!" wailed little Tom Clifton.
"Everybody look around for that piece of board," went on the skipper, earnestly. "Hurry up—hole isn't much above the water line."
A quick search proved without result.
"Fill it up with any old thing," commanded Dave. "Don't get scared, fellows. Shore isn't very far now."
The boy's calm tones inspired the others, and an instant later Bob Somers was stuffing an old coat through the opening. Even Tom Clifton forgot his fright for the moment.
The downpour increased, however, until the village lights were entirely blotted out. Nothing could now be seen through the impenetrable blackness, and all sense of direction was speedily lost. The lanterns threw weird splashes of light around the storm-tossed boat and upon its water-soaked occupants. All strained their eyes to pierce the gloom, hoping that each moment the veil might lift, but the minutes flew by with nothing to cheer their sight.
"We're in an awful fix," groaned Tom Clifton, his teeth almost chattering. "Where in the dickens are we, Havens?"