I see no broken water between us and them, and possibly there may be deep water under their bow." It was an anxious moment, as, with the sails flattened in, the yawl forged up nearly in the eye of the wind towards the wreck.

Her progress was slow, for she was now stemming the current.
Tom stood with a coil of line in his hand in the bow.
"You get ready to throw, Jack, if I miss." Nearer and nearer the yacht approached the wreck, until the bowsprit of the latter seemed to stand almost over her.

Then Tom threw the line.

It fell over the bowsprit, and a cheer broke from those on board the wreck and from the sailors of the Seabird.

A stronger line was at once fastened to that thrown, and to this a strong hawser was attached.
"Down with the helm, Watkins.