soberly, as he surveyed the mischief, "and I don't know which is the wust,—the leak or the loss of the provender,—but both are bad enough."
"The loss of the sail is the worst, I imagine," answered the boy. "How are we to keep sailing without a sheet?"
"That's true; we'll have to see what we can do with our shirts. But first let us go to work on that leak," concluded Striker, and they started in before either had a mouthful of breakfast.
Quarter of an hour later found them thoroughly alarmed. The leak was growing worse. In vain they tried to mend it. The Treasure had been so strained by the storm she was scarcely able to hold together. Suddenly there was a cracking, and out went a plank of the bottom, and Larry found himself dropping down into the ocean. Then the clumsy craft turned over, carrying Striker with it.
For several minutes there was a splutter and a struggle upon the part of man and boy to save themselves. At length Larry caught hold of the keel of the upturned boat and drew himself up. Soon Striker followed.
"We're in for it now, lad," cried the Yankee,
