"I believe he's unconscious, Doc," he cried. "Is there anything ye kin
do fer him?"

"We must get his wet clothes off at once," was the reply. "I'll wrap
him up in my great-coat."

"I've a couple of blankets in the locker there," and the captain turned
around, and began to fumble with his hands for the latch of the little
door. "Ye'd better strip him, Doc."

It took the latter only a few minutes to get the soaked clothes off the
unconscious boy. He then wrapped him up securely in the two blankets,
and laid him in a sheltered place in the cock-pit.

"Good Lord, what will the Royals say!" the captain groaned. "Here we
are adrift and can't lift a hand to help ourselves. I wonder what
struck us, anyway."

"It was something big," the doctor replied. "I heard the water
striking against it as we drifted off. It is over in that direction,"
and he pointed to the right. "Listen, you can hear it now. It's
adrift, and following us."

"I wonder what it kin be," the captain mused. "I can't imagine what
would rip away the mast before strikin' the yacht. It is certainly
very queer."

"Is there any chance of our drifting ashore, do you think?" the doctor
asked. "It will be hard on that boy if we are forced to stay here all
night."