Both held up their lanterns, the glasses of which were speedily covered
with flying spray. The lanterns made a small semicircle of light at the
stern, but Dick was beyond that circle and could not be seen.

"Take the wheel--I'll get a life-preserver!" said Tom, and ran for the
article he had mentioned.

"Shall I try to turn the yacht around?" questioned his brother, as he,
after several unsuccessful attempts, caught the spokes of the wheel,
which was flying back and forth with every pitch of the craft.

"No! no! We will be swamped if you do that. Keep her up to the wind."

Regardless of the danger, Tom flew across the deck to where there was a
life-preserver, attached to a hundred feet of small, but strong, rope.
Once at the stern again, he threw the life-preserver as far out as
possible.

"Catch the lifeline!" he shrieked. But if Dick heard he gave no answer.

"Can't we fire a rocket?" said Sam. "We ought to do something," he
added, half desperately.

Lashing the end of the lifeline to the stern, Tom ran down into the
cabin and brought forth several rockets. With trembling hands he set
off first one and then another. The blaze was a short one, yet it
revealed to them a large mass of lumber rising and falling on the bosom
of the turbulent waters.

"A lumber raft. It is going to pieces in the storm."