"Then fire!"
The mortar boomed, through the wind shot the projectile toward the ship, carrying with it the swiftly uncoiling rope. All watched anxiously.
"Too short!" cried the captain a moment later, lowering the glass through which he had watched the effect of the shot. "Use a little more powder this time."
The projectile was hauled back through the waves, and attached to another line, coiled in readiness, while some of the life savers busied themselves recoiling the first rope, in case the second shot failed too.
It did, again falling short.
"Try more powder," said the captain, grimly. "We've got to reach her."
"And soon," murmured old Abe. "She's breaking up fast."
Once more the mortar was fired, Blake and Joe, as well as Mr. Hadley, getting films of every move.
"There she goes!" cried the captain, in delight, as he watched the third shot. "Over her decks as clean as you'd want! Now to get the poor souls ashore!"
On board the wrecked ship could be observed a scene of activity. The sailors began hauling on the line, and presently the big cable began paying
