“Ease her up a bit, boys,” Mac shouted. “Steady an’ strong, an’ take yer time.”

Then the steersman and engineer began a “Yeo ho.” And it was well he did. The tired lads were in no condition to duplicate their sprint seaward. But, taking up the slow, long stroke, they began to get their second wind. There were no means of knowing whether the Escambia was having any effect on the steamer. But the hawser was taut, the oars rose and fell to Mac’s chanty of the sea, and the busy little engine kept the propeller churning ceaselessly.

“Mac,” called Tom Allen, at last, “is she comin’?”

“How kin I tell,” shouted Mac. “But Captain Joe sure ain’t waved any light fur us to stand by. Steady, boys, take yer time.”

Perhaps a quarter of an hour went by. With the lessening of their speed, the four oarsmen had fallen into a swinging sweep that permitted talk. It was agreed that it must be after eleven o’clock.
 
“We’ll save her or lose her by midnight,” suggested Tom. “An’, whatever happens, I ain’t a goin’ to shut an eye till I’ve had a hot suppah an’ get dried out befoah a rousin’ fiah.”

“Bet yer life,” exclaimed Hal. “If I ever get warm again, don’t bother about callin’ me in the mornin’.”

“Ah reckon you all’s gwine be busy ’nough in de mornin’,” interrupted Jerry. “Allowin’ ef we git dis steamer in de bay who gwine to boss gittin’ her out agin?”

“And the sick captain?” suggested Bob. “Looks to me as if we won’t have much chance to get up to camp—”

“She’s a comin’ boys,” exclaimed Mac suddenly. “She’s sure a comin’. We’re a gettin’ out o’ the lee of her. Yeo ho, yeo ho.”

If that was an indication, the work of the Escambia was telling. So far, the steamer had been drifting in the trough of the waves parallel with the beach. The life boat, working to starboard, had been more or less protected by the steamer from the sweep of wind and water. As Mac could not hold the life boat in one position, it was impossible to tell from the fire ashore or Captain Joe’s lantern whether the steamer was altering her position. But, when Mac discovered[115] that the Escambia was no longer in the lee of the helpless vessel, it was an indication that her bow was at last coming about shoreward.

“Hit her up, Kids,” whispered Hal. “Let’s show what we kin do.”

“Hey there, none o’ that,” yelled Mac. “Yer doin’ good ’nough. Stick to the stroke. Yeo ho, yeo ho.”

As the boys fell back into their stride, the Escambia came further out from the steamer’s protection, and once more the life boat was climbing the waves.

“Dat’s it,” yelled Jerry. “We sho’ got ’er. We’s got her a comin’. She’s nigh head on now. Mac,” he called anxiously, “who gwine bring dem jibs about?”

It was certain that the Escambia could not force the drifting hulk up into the gale. If the headway so far obtained was sufficient to bring the vessel on to a starboard tack, the jibs would have to come over.

“He wants us,” replied Mac. “Captain Joe’s a callin’. Ship them oars, Kids, an’ give us a hand on this line.”

Any change was welcome. A few minutes later, the Escambia had been drawn up to the[116] steamer’s side, and, although the little boat pounded against the iron plates with terrorizing crashes, Jerry and Mac clambered up the cable like monkeys.

“Cast off!” yelled Mac in the darkness. “Keep the engine goin’ Tom and youse other kids do what ye kin at the oars.”

Both Jerry and Mac were right. Captain Joe was hanging on to the wheel, which was hard over. The cargo owner was crouched beneath the rail, wrapped in a blanket.

“Free dem jib sheets, but don’t haul in on ’em till ye git de word,” commanded Captain Joe at once, but offering no explanations. “Take the light,” he added.

The nimble Mac and Jerry were off on a bound and a few moments later the slapping sails were free in the wind. For five minutes or more the two boys stood waiting the word to haul in, the jib sheets in hand. Below them, the Escambia, feebly but ceaselessly, pulled at the straining cable, and far astern Captain Joe, with adroit use of the wheel, coaxed the drifting steamer little by little into the wind.

At last came the long-waited-for order. The two boys fell to their task like storm scarred sea[117] dogs. One sheet at a time, they hauled in, against the gale.

“He’ll make it,” panted Mac, as he saw the great triangular canvas fill out over the port bow. As he and Jerry made fast the second sheet they could almost feel the steamer respond. “Captain Joe’ll put her there now, if any one could. But it’s goin’ to be close work,” added Mac. “Hear them breakers, Jerry?”

“He’s sho’ haidin’ her up,” answered Jerry.

After another trip to Captain Joe, the boys were ordered into the Escambia again. The instructions were to give every aid to the unwieldly steamer; if she fell off before the storm again, to use the engine and oars to the best advantage, and, if she made the bay, to hasten aboard to let go the anchor. Neither Mac nor Jerry took the trouble to haul in on the Escambia’s hawser. Throwing their arms and legs about the stiff cable, they shot downward into the life boat’s stern.

Mac now told his oarsmen off in relays, and to Bob the relief came none too soon. Braced in the bow, he took his rest and found time to look about. The campfire on the shore was wholly dead.
 
“How’ll Captain Joe make the pass now?” he yelled to the other boys. “The fire’s out.” Jerry was by his side baling the boat with his hat.

“Yo’ all don’ know Captain Joe, Ah reckon,” he answered. “He jes’ knows de place; he ain’t gwine to have to see it.”

In about a quarter of an hour, Mac burst out in a new exclamation.

“He’s fetched her,” the boy shouted. “Captain Joe’s headin’ in.”

“Headin’ in!” exclaimed Bob. “Into what?”

“Into de pass,” volunteered Jerry. “He shorely is.”

“I can’t see anything,” added Bob, straining his eyes shoreward.

“He ain’t seein’”, repeated Jerry enthusiastically. “But don’ you be afeared. Whar de steamer’s pintin’ now, dat’s de pass.”

For the first time, the movement of the black hulk behind the Escambia became apparent. Captain Joe, even with his imperceptible headway, had at last permitted the steamer to pay off before the wind, and it was now drifting straight shoreward—bow on. Mac’s orders came at once. All four boys fell to the oars, the steering sweep brought the straining life boat[119] about on to the new co............