"It's the last time I'll ever come out without lights and a mast and sail." "That's what they all say," observed Tubby grimly.

"The thing to do now is to get back to shore somehow.

Maybe we can rig up a sail with the cockpit cover and the oars.

We've got to try it, anyhow." After hauling in the sea anchor, the lads set to work to rig up and lash the oars into an A shape.

The canvas was lashed to each of the arms of the A, and the contrivance then set up and secured to the fore and aft cleats by the mooring line they had utilized for the sea anchor.
"Well," remarked Tubby, as he surveyed his handiwork with some satisfaction and pride, "we can go before the wind now, anyhow--even if we do look like a lost, strayed or stolen Chinese junk." "Say, I'm so hungry I could eat one of those fish raw!" exclaimed Hiram, now quite recovered, as the Flying Fish, under her clumsy sail, began to stagger along in the direction in which Tubby believed the land lay, the wind fortunately being dead aft.
"Great Scott, the kid's right!" exclaimed Merritt.