“That’s the worst of it,” replied George Warren. “I’m not sure, by any means, whether we get blown out to the shoals, or whether we can head over to the eastward any, ever so slightly, and strike the Gull Island Thoroughfare. If we can land under the lee of Gull Island, we may be able to do something. The first thing, though, is to get there.” It was no easy thing to hold the yacht on its course, even with no sail to drive it up to windward. Every wave threatened to throw it broadside on, and it required now and again the united efforts of George and Arthur Warren to steady it. Then a wave would come aboard astern, rolling in and nearly filling the cockpit. Several times it did this, and at each and every time it seemed as though the little yacht was going down. They bailed desperately then, every one of them falling to except George Warren. To their credit, though, not one of them lost his courage. Their faces were drawn and set, but they had confidence that the little _Spray_ would somehow bring them through. Toward the middle of the afternoon they had got the Thoroughfare well in sight, big Gull Island lying nearly dead ahead and the smaller Gull Islands lying away to the eastward. “If we can manage to get a scrap of sail on her just as we pass the end of Gull Island,” said George Warren, “I think we can swing her in and not capsize. We’ve got to keep headway on, though, or one of these big rollers will get under us and tip us over. We shall have a few rods to run broadside on, for, as we are running now, and the best we can head, we cannot come nearer than that to the island.” “I’ll give her a scrap of sail that she can carry,” exclaimed Arthur, and dived into the companionway, shutting the door quickly to keep the seas out. He returned in a moment, bringing a hand-saw. With this he severed clean the broken half of the boom, tying the ends of the rigging to the short stub that was left. This left the sail a huge, clumsy bag, that would evidently not hoist up but a foot or so on the mast, but might possibly be of some service in the emergency. A torrent of rain now began to pour, falling so dense as almost to shut out the islands ahead. Their outlines became obscured, making the effort to run into the Thoroughfare a more difficult and dangerous one. Moreover, the wind continued to increase. “Now, fellows,” said George Warren, as they came abreast of the end of Big Gull Island, “everybody up to windward and hold on hard. She’s going to lay over when she gets these seas broadside. Hoist the sail, Arthur, just as we begin to head in.” Arthur sprang to the halyards, but they were tangled and did not pull true. Try as best he could, the sail would hoist but a little ways on the mast. It bagged out like a huge balloon, holding the wind and nearly capsizing them. Henry Burns, handling the main-sheet, let it run just in time to save them. Still the sail gave them headway, and, carefully managed, would answer to fetch them in.