y enough the gale seemed to have lulled for the time. Having
done its worst to them, it gave the unfortunate castaways a breathing
spell.

With the aid of their mates, Whistler Morgan and Torry were able to
reach the keel of the overturned boat. There they perched, too, and,
chattering in the cold wind, tried to look about them.

Where was the raft? This question, first and foremost in Whistler's
mind, troubled him intensely. It was impossible to see far across the
tossing sea; but he was sure that the life raft was nowhere within the
range of their vision.

"Poor Frenchy and Ikey!" groaned Whistler.

"That raft can't sink," urged Torry in his ear.

"But they could easily be torn off it by the waves."

"Don't look at it in that way. They may be better off than we are,"
returned his chum.

"What's that yonder?" shouted Slim suddenly.

"Land!" Mr. MacMasters cried.

"And a lot of good that'll do us," growled Slim. "We'll be dumped
ashore, maybe, like a ton of trap-rock."

The sodden boat was drifting steadily toward the island. The surf
thundered against its ramparts most threateningly. But the outlook did
not seem so serious as that upon the other island they had passed.

Ensign MacMasters, after some fishing, secured the loose end of the
broken hawser. With the help of those nearest to him he hauled this out
of the water. Then, by his advice, they all lashed themselves to the
long rope with their belts or neckerchiefs.

"No matter what happens, we want to hang together," he declared. "No one
man can fight this sea alone."

His cheerfulness and optimism raised their spirits. At least they hung
on to their insecure refuge with much ardor, and not uncheerfully waited
to be cast upon the strand.

A great swell suddenly caught the yawl and drove it shoreward. Mr.
MacMasters uttered a warning shout and waved his hand in a gesture of
command. They all cast loose from the keel, and the boat was carried
high upon the breast of the breaker.

Still fastened together by the rope, the castaways were tumbled over and
over in the surf. The yawl was east upon the strand with dreadful force
and if they had continued to cling to it their chances of being
seriously injured would have been great indeed.

Lightly the men and boys lashed to the rope were tossed by the
surf--rolling over and over, but still clinging to each other and to the
hawser. Mr. MacMasters at one end and Whistler Morgan at the other
managed to obta