"But we can't drive the launch hard. The breeze is knocking up the sea."
"We'll try," Dick answered, and Jake growled in protest. His dream of
rest and sleep, and perhaps some mildly exciting adventure when the
citizens came out in the cool of the evening, had been rudely banished.
Moreover, he had had another reason for being philosophical when he
thought his comrade baulked.
"It's a fool trick. She won't make it if the sea gets bad."
Dick smiled dryly. "We can turn back if we find her getting swamped. It
looks as if you were not very anxious to overtake Kenwardine."
"I'm not," Jake admitted. "If you're determined to go, I'm coming, but
I'd be glad of a good excuse for letting the matter drop."
Somewhat to his surprise, Dick gave him a sympathetic nod. "I know; I've
felt like that, but the thing can't be dropped. It's a hateful job, but
it must be finished now."
"Very well," Jake answered, getting up. "If we must go, the sooner we
start the better."
The launch looked very small and dirty when they looked down on her from
the wharf, and Jake noted how the surf broke upon the end of the
sheltering point. Its deep throbbing roar warned him what they might
expect when they reached open water, but he went down the steps and
helped Dick to tighten some bearing brasses, after which a peon threw
down their ropes and the screw began to rattle. With a few puffs of steam
from her funnel the launch moved away and presently met the broken swell
at the harbor mouth. Then her easy motion changed to a drunken lurch and
Jake gazed with misgivings at the white-topped seas ahead.
She went through the first comber's crest with her forefoot in the air
and the foam washing deep along the tilted deck, while the counter
vanished in a white upheaval. Then it swung up in turn, and frames and
planking shook as the engine ran away. This happened at short intervals
as she fought her way to windward in erratic jerks, while showers of
spray and cinders blew aft into the face of her crew.
Dick drove her out until the sea got longer and more regular, when he
turned and followed the coast, but the flashing blue and white rollers
were now on her beam and flung her to lee as they passed. Sometimes one
washed across her low counter, and sometimes her forward half was buried
in a tumultuous rush of foam. The pump was soon started and they kept it
going, but the water gathered in the crank-pit, where it was churned into
lather, and Jake and Maccario relieved each other at helping the pump
with a bucket. They were drenched and half blinded by the spray, but it
was obvious that their labor was needed and they persevered.