There, resting on top
of the heap of lumber and timbers, was a fine skiff apparently sound and
whole. By some curious freak of the storm it had been gently deposited
there and left to rest while great ships had been sorely wrenched and
even wrecked. The boys lost no time in removing the skiff with Wyckoff's
help. To drag it along the yielding sand was a harder task. All were
thoroughly winded when at last the skiff floated in the waters of the
bight where lay the yacht.
"Whew!" panted Frank. "That's a big job for five. I'm glad I didn't
tackle it alone. I certainly would have been tired."
"Let's leave Rowdy to guard Wyckoff while we get things in good shape on
board and then we'll leave Wyckoff here!" suggested Tom in an aside to
Jack. "I think we'd better leave him some grub, too. It wouldn't be
right to just turn him adrift here alone."
"What, after he kicked you like that?" inquired Jack.
"Yes," Tom replied. "A Boy Scout never holds a grudge."
"Good for you, Tom!" cried Jack, extending his hand to meet Tom's in a
hearty grip. "Those sentiments make me glad that you are a member of the
Beaver Patrol. I wish they were all like that!"
No time was lost in preparing the boats for the proposed trip to the
mainland. The afternoon was well spent and the boys were tired and
hungry. Their day had been a most strenuous one.
Arnold was already preparing coffee and pancakes in the kitchenette when
the boys arrived with the newly discovered skiff.
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