But it was the last of the angry combers and
the next minute the three were wiping the salt water from their faces
while the yawl was riding easily on the glassy swell just beyond the
bar.
"Now head her for the schooner, boys," said Duff, bailing with one hand
as he steered with the other. "If we hadn't had the ebb with us, we'd
have had to lighten her. Now--give me your oar, Ralph. You steer.
We've no time to lose, for if a breeze starts before we reach the side,
I fear they're not so fond of our company but what they might give us
the slip yet."
"Couldn't we ship on that other vessel?" asked Ralph, by no means
reluctant to change his berth to a ship less liable to the law's
penalties.
"We probably could," replied Duff dryly. "We probably might also have
to spend several months in jail somewhere as slavers, or for aiding and
abetting in the traffic. I think we'd better overhaul the schooner and
wait for better times."
The sun was now high in the heavens, and the growing heat already
almost unbearable. They stripped to their shirt and trousers while the
sweat rolled in streams from the faces of the oarsmen.
While nearing the Wanderer rapidly they noticed a faint, dark line
approaching up from the southeast along the line of the coast.
"A wind, by thunder!" exclaimed Duff, renewing his efforts at the oar.
"Look! the corvette already feels it. Give way, Ben? Gary is none too
good to leave us yet if the wind reaches him before we do.
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