Scrambling forward, Percy grasped the oars and took Jim's place on the thwart. The latter lay down flat on his back in the bottom of the dory. Apparently he was not far from complete exhaustion. "Keep her up into the wind as well as you can," he directed. Percy did his best; but he found it a hard job. The gale, now far stronger than the tide that flowed against it under the surface, was forcing them steadily southward. Brimstone Point could just be seen, a half-mile to the northeast. Though he pulled his heart out, Percy could tell that he was losing ground, or rather water, every second. The wind mocked his efforts. He could not keep the boat on her course. Big rollers swashed against the port bow and broke aboard. Jim raised a drenched face, haggard with weariness, and took in the situation. "Harder, Perce!" he urged. "Hold her up till I can get my breath. It's the ocean for us to-night, if we don't hit Brimstone." Spurred by this exhortation, Percy jerked at the oars savagely and unskilfully. As he swayed back there was a sharp snap, and the starboard oar broke squarely, just above the blade. Round swung the dory, head to the south. Up started Spurling with a cry of alarm, his fatigue forgotten. "You've done it now!" Wrenching the port oar from his horrified mate, he sprang aft, dropped it in the notch on the stern, headed the boat once more for the island, and began sculling with all his might. It was a hopeless attempt. However strong he might be, no man with only one oar could make headway into the teeth of such a gale. For a time his desperate efforts held the dory in her place. Then little by little she began to go astern. With sinking heart Percy watched Spurling's shoulders rack and twist as he threw his last ounce into his sculling. By degrees his motions became slower and more painful. Suddenly he pulled in the oar and dropped it clattering aboard. "No use!" he groaned as he toppled backward and collapsed in the bottom of the dory. XVIII BUOY OR BREAKER Consternation seized Percy. Never before had he known Jim to acknowledge himself beaten. Their plight must be serious indeed. The dory swung side to the sea and sank into the trough. A half-barrel of water slopped aboard. Percy bestirred himself. Setting the oar in the scull-hole, he brought the boat's head once more into the wind. He was not strong enough to drive her against it; but he could at least keep her pointed into the teeth of the gale and prevent her from swamping. He dropped to his knees, for it was too rough for him to keep his balance if he stood upright. How far off was Tarpaulin? As he looked back a red glare sprang up northeast. Budge and Throppy had fired the driftwood beacon on Brimstone Point. Small good it would do Jim and himself to-night. They could not reach the island with one oar, and it was now too dark for their friends on Tarpaulin to make out the drifting dory. Percy began sculling frantically.