Frank and Andy Afloat | Page 7

rocks! Look out for the rocks!" shouted the older lad. "We'll be on
'em in a second! Port your helm! Port!"
Andy desperately threw over the tiller, and with fear-blanched face he
looked to where his brother pointed. Amid a smother of white foam,

almost dead ahead and scarcely two cable lengths away there showed
the black and jagged points of rocks, known locally as the "Shark's
Teeth." The Gull was headed straight for them.
Anxiously, and with strained eyes, the brothers looked to see if their
boat would answer her rudder. For a moment or two she hung in the
balance, the howling wind driving her nearer the rocks, to strike upon
which meant sure destruction in the now boiling sea.
Then, with a feeling of relief, Andy saw that they were sheering off, but
very slowly. Could they make it? They were near to death, for no
one--not even the strongest swimmer--could live long unaided in that
boiling sea that would pound him upon the sharp rocks.
Suddenly Frank uttered a cry, and pointed to a spot at the left of the
rocks, in a space of water comparatively calm.
"There! Look! Look!" he shouted.
"What is it? The whale?" demanded Andy.
"No, a boat--a motor boat! It's disabled--drifting! It must have been on
the rocks. It's a large one, too. Look out you don't hit it."
"It's on fire!" cried Andy. "See the smoke--the flame! It's burning up!"
The Gull was now far enough from the Shark's Teeth to warrant her
safety, and the boys could look at the motor craft, that was bobbing
helplessly about in the spume and spray, being tossed hither and thither
by the heaving waves.
"See anybody on her?" yelled Andy.
"No--not a soul," answered Frank, who had made his way forward, and
was standing up, clinging to the mast.
Suddenly, amid the howling of the storm, there came a sharp explosion.
There was a puff of flame, and a cloud of smoke hovered over the
hapless motor boat, which, strange to say, still remained intact and

afloat.
"She's blown up! Exploded!" yelled Andy.
"Yes, and there's a boy in the water! Look!" fairly screamed Frank. "He
was on the boat! The explosion must have blown him out! He's floating!
We must save him, Andy!"
"Sure! Jupiter's lobsters! but things are happening to us to-day! Look
out! I'm going to put about!"
Frank scrambled back to join his brother. The big boom with its
shortened sail swung over, and, heeling under the force of the shrieking
wind, the Gull darted toward the dangerous rocks once more. Toward
the wrecked motorboat, toward the figure of the boy floating in the
smother of foaming and storm-torn waves she swept.
Could they reach the helpless lad in time? It was the question
uppermost in the hearts of Frank and Andy Racer.
CHAPTER III
THE BOY'S RESCUE
"Can we make it, Frank?" questioned Andy desperately.
"We've got to," came the quick answer. "Ease her off a little until I get
the lay of things."
"Is he swimming?" demanded the younger lad.
"Yes, but only with one hand. He must be injured. He can just manage
to keep afloat. Put in a little closer. We've passed the worst of the Teeth.
It's deep water here, isn't it?"
"Yes, as near as I can tell. I haven't been here very often. It's too
dangerous, even in calm weather, to say nothing of a storm."
The wind was now a gale, but the boys had their sailboat well in hand

and were managing her skillfully. They came nearer to the feebly
swimming lad.
"There he goes--he's sunk--he's under!" yelled Andy, peering beneath
the boom.
"Too bad!" muttered Frank. "We're too late!"
Eagerly he looked into the tumult of waters Then he uttered a joyful
cry.
"There he is again! He's a plucky one. We must get him, Andy!"
"But how? I daren't steer in any closer or I'll have a hole in us and we'll
go down."
"We've got to save the poor fellow. I wonder who he is?"
"It's tough," murmured Andy. "See, the fire on the motor boat seems to
be out."
"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