The huge fabrics, hardly more than scows, were wallowing in the waves, sending up great clouds of spray when the seas broke with a noise like thunder under the square bows or sterns, and the lad, ignorant though he was regarding such work, knew full well that it would be more difficult to board one of the hulks than to clamber over the rail of an ordinary wreck. The order was given to “cease rowing,” and as the oars were held firmly in the water to prevent the life-boat from being blown at the mercy of the wind, Keeper Downey studied how he might best accomplish the difficult task. “They are all dragging their anchors,” he said after a brief silence. “Yes, and would in this shallow water, no matter what weight of metal they had out,” Dick Sawyer grumbled. “If the wreckers are willing to leave their hulks on such a shore as this, without so much as a single man aboard, it would serve them right to lose the whole boiling.” “We’ve got to board that lighter!” Downey finally exclaimed, giving no heed to Dick’s grumbling. “It won’t be a nice job, boys, but must be done, else those hulks will be driven down upon the steamer. Stand by, 1, 2, 4, and 5,” he added, designating the men by their numbers. No protest was made, although the life savers knew they were ordered to far more dangerous work than would be theirs if human lives were to be wrested from the waters. The men referred to hauled in their oars, and the remainder of the crew, Benny doing his best with the heavy implement Sam had been wielding, worked the life-boat around until she was to leeward of the lighter. “Jump when I give the word, and then slack away on the cables. Look around for spare anchors! If any be found, heave them out; but remember that you must work lively! Are you ready? jump!” The four men leaped as one, and the life-boat was hurled back by the impetus until a dozen yards of water tumbled between her and the lighter. A long sigh of relief escaped from Benny’s lips as he saw that his comrades had gained a safe footing on the rolling, pitching hulk, and then it was necessary that he give his undivided attention to working the oar, lest the waves should wrest it from his grasp. Downey’s purpose was to keep the life-boat under the lee of the lighter to lessen the labor of his men, and even this was an extremely difficult matter, for the sea increased in violence momentarily, while there were but three men and a boy at the oars. Hardy, Cushing, Sawyer, and Henderson were the men detailed for the work of securing the heavy hulk, and there were none among the crew stronger or more able to perform the task, yet it was soon seen that they were working at a great disadvantage owing to lack of numbers. “There are no spare anchors here!” Hardy cried out after he had been on board the unwieldy craft ten minutes or more. “There’s only an apology for a windlass, an’ I question if it won’t go by the board before many hours.”