"Oh! if you could only get that old junk-shop engine to working for half
an hour, Thad, we'd have plenty of time to circle around to the leeward
side of that island, and then we could get ashore, no matter what
happened to the Belle," Bumpus faltered, as he watched the skipper still
working as rapidly as he could.

All at once the machinery started up again, when Thad gave the crank a
whirl.

"Bully for you, Thad!" cried Davy, slapping the other heartily on the
back; and then turning to look at the black clouds following after them,
as though he would give fair warning that they meant to make a stiff
fight for the opportunity of finding safety.

"Go slow!" warned the other; "don't be too sure, because she's limping
already, and I'd hate to risk my reputation in saying that we could
depend on that thing five minutes at a stretch," and from the way Thad
said this it was evident that he had by now almost lost all faith in the
motor.

"Looks like it might be a race between the storm, and our getting behind
Sturgeon Island," said Giraffe, as he turned alternately from stem to
stern of the boat, evidently trying to figure out what sort of chance
they might have for winning out in the end.

But they knew that it all depended on the engine; if it worked as well
as it was doing right now they could surely pass over the few miles that
separated them from the island; and once in its lee it would not be so
difficult to gain the shore. Neither the wild wind, nor the gathering
waves could disturb them, so long as the storm continued to come out of