Wyckoff looked intently that way.
"Ha!" he ejaculated. "They're fetching it! Good boys!"
In spite of his resolve to keep his eyes on the prisoner, Tom's gaze
wandered for an instant to the sight viewed by Wyckoff.
That instant seemed to be the object of the outlaw's vigil.
The boys on the Fortuna had, by dint of great exertion, managed to work
the yacht from her resting place on the beach where Tom had driven her
in his mad race to rescue them a short time previously. Because of the
short distance traveled, the momentum of the boat had not been
sufficient to drive her far up on the beach, so it was not a difficult
matter to get her afloat again. The powerful motors tugged and pulled
and at last they were again afloat, but minus their anchor.
Frank offered to dive for it, and, divesting himself of his clothing,
went overboard in the clear water of the little bight where the anchor
and cable could be seen lying on the bottom.
The shout of triumph voiced by the boys when the Fortuna floated free
was echoed when Frank came to the surface after having bent on the line
he carried to the end of the chain cable. He was nearly breathless when
he reached the surface, but willing hands pulled him over the stern of
the rowboat in which the boys had searched for the lost anchor. Soon he
recovered his wind.
Peace seemed never to reign for long in the Fortuna. Scarcely had the
boys shouted in victory over the recovery of the anchor than they heard
a shot from the shore.
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