The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol | Page 8

live ten minutes in any kind of a sea."
"Well, we're not such a bunch of old women as to be scared of a little
wetting," jeered Jack Curtiss. "So long! We've got no time to wait for
that old tub of yours."
Before the boys could voice any more warnings, the hydroplane, which
had been slowed down, dashed off once more.
"I don't know what we are to do," spoke up Merritt. "We can't compel
them to go in, and, after all, the captain may be mistaken."
"No, I'm not, my son," rejoined the veteran. "I can smell wind--and see
them 'mare's tails' in the sky over yonder. They're as fall uv wind as a
preacher is uv texts."
"Well, we've done our best to warn them," concluded Rob. "If they are
so foolhardy as to keep on, we can't help it."
In half an hour more the boys had landed the captain at the little pier he
had built on his island, and to which his rowboat was attached, and
were ready to start back, good-bys having been said.
"Hark!" exclaimed the captain, as Rob prepared to give the order to
"Go ahead."
The boys listened, and heard a low, distant moaning sound, something
like the deepest rumbling notes of a church organ.
"That's the wind comin'," warned the captain. "Yer'd better be hurryin'

back."
With more hasty good-bys, the lads got under way at once. As they
emerged from the lee of the island they could see that seaward the
ocean was being rapidly lashed into choppy, white-- crested waves by
the advancing storm, and that the wind was freshening into a really stiff
breeze.
"Those fellows must be wishing they took our advice now if they are
fools enough to have kept out," said Merritt, as he slowed down the
engine so as to permit the Flying Fish to ride the rising seas more
easily.
"Yes, I guess they're doing some tall thinking," agreed Tubby, as a
wave caught the little Flying Fish "quartering" on her port bow, and
sent a white smother of spray swirling back over her occupants.
"That's the time we got it," laughed Rob, from the wheel, peering
straight ahead. Suddenly he uttered a shout and pointed seaward.
"Look there!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "There are those three
fellows, and they're in trouble, from the looks of it."
The others looked, and beheld, half a mile or so away, on the
roughening waters, the hull of the hydroplane. She was tossing up and
down like a cork, and apparently was drifting helplessly, with her
motor broken down, in the heavy sea. Her occupants seemed to be
bailing her; but as they caught sight of the Flying Fish they stood up
and waved frantically.
"Yes, they're in trouble, all right," agreed Tubby. "And I suppose we've
got to go and get them out of it."
Rob had already put the Flying Fish about and headed her for the
distressed craft. As they drew near, Sam Redding began shouting:
"Help, help! We're sinking, we're sinking!"

Jack Curtiss and Bill Bender, drenched to the skin with spray and white
with fright, said nothing, but a look of great relief came over their faces
as the chums' boat ranged alongside.
"I don't want to risk ramming my boat by coming right alongside,"
shouted Rob. "You'll have to jump for it. Don't be scared. We'll pull
you aboard."
The three youths on the water-logged hydroplane looked somewhat
alarmed at the prospect, but Rob knew that Jack and Bill could swim.
He was not sure of Sam, but assumed, from the fact that he had lived
by the sea all his life, that he was equally at home in the water.
The hesitation of Jack Curtiss and his chum was over in a minute, as
the hydroplane gave a plunge that seemed as if it would be her last.
Lightly dressed as they were, in canvas trousers, sleeveless jerseys and
yachting shoes, it was no trick at all for them to swim the few feet to
the Flying Fish. As they leaped overboard, Sam lingered.
"Come on, Sam," shouted Jack, as the boys lugged the two dripping,
sputtering castaways on board.
"I--I can't swim. You'll have to come alongside for me," stuttered the
badly-scared Sam.
"All right. Hold on, and we'll do what we can," hailed Rob, starting to
carry out the risky maneuver of getting alongside the plunging
hydroplane in the heavy sea.
In some never-to-be-explained manner, however, the frightened Sam
suddenly lost his balance in the tossing racing boat, and, clawing
desperately at her bulwarks to save himself, shot over the side.
"He'll drown!" shouted Jack Curtiss. "He can't swim, and he'll drown."
"If you knew that, why didn't you stand by him?" truculently