CHAPTER II.
THE MAN FROM THE WRECK.
All on board the Dashaway were intensely interested in the discovery old Jacob had made.
"You are sure you saw the small boat?" questioned Dick.
"I didn't see a thing," declared Don.
"Nor did I," added Leander.
"I saw the boat right enough, lads," returned the old Yankee tar. "It was out there," he pointed with his long forefinger. "Look! look!"
Another flash of lightning had lit up the firmament, making all as bright as day. Not fifty yards from the Dashaway all beheld an upturned rowboat, just rising to the top of one of the long ocean swells. To one end of the tiny craft a man was clinging desperately. It. was possible that he was crying for help, but if so, the uproar of the storm drowned out his voice completely.
"Dat fellow will be lost sure!" burst out Danny Guirk. "Poor man, he must feel awful!"
"We must try to save him," came from Dick.
"That's true," said Don. "But how?"
