ALMOST RUN DOWN It grew dark rapidly and the night fell on three lonely, wet, hungry boys, rolling along in a disabled boat under what was surely one of the queerest rigs ever devised.

It answered its purpose, though, and under her "jury mast" the Flying Fish actually made some headway through the water.
None of the boys said much, and Tubby, under the cover of the darkness, tightened his capacious belt.

It spoke volumes for his Boy Scout training that, though he probably felt the pangs of hunger as much or even more keenly than the others, he made no complaint.

Hiram, the second-class scout, complained a bit at first, but soon quieted down under Merritt's stern looks; as for the latter, as corporal of the Eagle Patrol, it was his duty to try to keep as cheerful as possible; which, under the circumstances, was about as hard a task as could well be imagined.
The eyes of all three were kept strained ahead for some sign of a light, for they had been so tossed about in the squall that all sense of direction had been lost, and they had no compass aboard, which in itself was a piece of carelessness.
Suddenly, after about an hour of "going it blind" in this fashion, young Hiram gave a shout.
"A light, a light!" "Where ?" demanded Tubby and Merritt sharply.
"Off there," cried the lad, pointing to the left, over the port side of the boat.
Both the elder lads gazed sharply.
"That's not the direction in which land would lie," mused Tubby.
"The light's pretty high up, too, isn't it ?" suggested Merritt.

"It might be a lighthouse.