They got the yacht into the wind for a moment, lowered the sail, and tied in a few reef-points; but the yacht would not hold in the wind, and they had to be content with a few knots tied at twice or three times the usual distance. “We’re blowing offshore at a great rate,” exclaimed George, “but I can’t help it. I can’t hold her up any higher. She won’t stand it.” “Then we cannot make the point,” said Arthur. “I am afraid not,” returned George. “I don’t like the prospect of getting out into that bay, either, but I’m afraid we are in for it. I had no idea there was any such a sea running, nor anything like this wind.” The prospect was, indeed, not encouraging. Across the wide stretch of bay for some eighteen miles the sea was one mass of whitecaps, a tumbling confusion of waves, which already broke aboard the yacht, covering the boys with spray and necessitating the use of bailing-dish and boat-sponge to keep the water from standing in the cockpit. “We’ve got to get that topping-lift up higher, Arthur,” said George Warren, as the yacht rolled heavily, bringing the boom down dangerously near the waves. His brother sprang to the halyards at the warning, but it was a moment too late. At that instant a wave, rolling higher than any they had yet encountered, raised the _Spray_ on its crest and hurled it forward, at the same time causing the little craft to yaw so that the boom was buried for a moment deep in the seas. That moment was enough. There was a sharp snap as the boom, splintered in two in the middle, emerged from the waves, a useless thing. The yacht nearly broached to, while the next oncoming wave broke fairly aboard, filling the cockpit half-full of water. They thought it was all over with them then, but they kept their heads and saved themselves. Henry Burns and Arthur Warren, at the risk of going overboard, managed to get the broken boom aboard, after they had let the halyards run, and lashed it astern, so that the yacht was utterly without sail. At the same time Tom and Bob, who knew little about handling a yacht, but were ready for any emergency, bailed furiously with pails to clear the boat of water. Fortunately, the hatch had been shut, and the deluge of water had not gone into the cabin, or the boat must have foundered. As it was, she rolled heavily till they had bailed the cockpit dry again. “That does settle it, with a vengeance,” said George Warren, when they had recovered a little from the shock. “We have got to run for it now, clear across this bay. I think we can do it all right, but you fellows will have to bail lively. That won’t be the only sea we take aboard.” “Where do we run to?” asked Henry Burns.