It was a hard, slow push, the square sides of the raft offering every obstacle to progress.

Yet the waves and wind helped somewhat, the raft being lighter than the water-sogged _Seminole_, so that gradually the distance widened, until there extended a considerable waste of water between the two.

Exhausted by his exertion, and breathing hard, West glanced back over his shoulder at the dimmer shadow of the yacht, now barely revealed against the clouded sky.

The bulk of it seemed scarcely visible in any defined form above the level of the sea--the end must be almost at hand.
Satisfied that they were far enough away for safety, he clambered cautiously upon the platform, the girl as carefully making room for him on the few dry planks.

The raft tossed dizzily under the strain, but he made it at last, the water draining from his soaked clothing, his flesh shivering at the touch of the cool night air.