ws, took form and identity--a two-masted steamer, with
English colors, union down, at the gaff. High out of water, her
broadside drift was faster than that of the dismasted craft riding to
her wreckage, and in a few hours she was dangerously near, directly
ahead, rolling heavily in the trough of the sea. They could see shreds
of canvas hanging from masts and gaffs.

"Wunner what's wrong wid her," said the cook, as he relinquished the
glasses to the next man. "Amos," he called to another, "you've been in
the ingine-room, you say. Is her ingine bus' down?"

"Dunno," answered Amos. "Steam's all right; see the jet comin' out o'
the stack? There! she's turnin' over--kickin' ahead. 'Bout time if she
wants to clear us. She's signalin'. What's that say, Elisha?"

The ensign was fluttering down, and a string of small flags going aloft
on the other part of the signal-halyards, while the steamer, heading
west, pushed ahead about a length under the impulse of her propeller.
Elisha, the navigator, went below, and returned with a couple of books,
which he consulted.

"Her number," he said. "She's the _Afghan Prince_ o' London." As the
schooner carried no signal-flags, he waved his sou'wester in answer,
and the flags came down, to be replaced by others.

"Rudder carried away," he read, and then looked with the glasses.
"Rudder seems all right; must mean his steerin'-gear. Why don't they
rig up suthin', or a drag over the stern?"

"Don't know enough," said an expatriated Englishman of the crew. "She's
one o' them bloomin', undermanned tramps, run by apprentices an' Thames
watermen. They're drivin' sailors an' sailin'-ships off the sea blarst
'em!"

"Martin," said Elisha to the cook, "what's the matter with our bein' a
drag for her?"

"Dead easy, if we kin git his line an' he knows how to rig a bridle."

"We can show him, if it comes to it. What ye say, boys? If we steer her
into port we're entitled to salvage. She's helpless; we're not, for
we've got a jury-rig under the bows. Hello! what's he sayin' now?"
Other flags had gone aloft on the steamer, which asked for the
longitude. Then followed others which said that the chronometer was
broken.

"Better 'n ever!" exclaimed Elisha, excitedly. "Can't navigate. Our
chronometer's all right; we never needed it, an' don't now, but it's a
big help in a salvage claim. What ye say? Can't we get our hemp cable
to him with a dory?"

Why not? They were fishermen, accustomed to dory wor