It was truly a perilous moment, and it looked as if the mighty waves would swamp the Old Glory before the wreckage could be cleared away.  The girls stood at a cabin window watching the work and ready to leap out if the yacht should start to go down.

“There it goes!” cried Dick, at last, and gave another stroke with the ax.  There followed a snap and a crack, and overboard slid the broken mast, carrying a mass of cordage with it.

At once the Old Glory righted herself, sending a small sheet of water flowing from one side of the deck to the other.  Some of the water swept into the cabin, and the girls were alarmed more than ever.

“A good job done that it’s overboard,” said Captain Jerry.  “Another plunge or two and we would have gone over, sure pop!”

With the wreckage cleared away the boys breathed more freely.  But the peril was still extreme, for it was no easy matter to keep the craft from taking the mighty waves broadside.  But the force of the wind drove them on, and Captain Jerry handled the wheel as only a veteran tar could.

“I guess it’s a hurricane,” was Tom’s comment.

“Looks more like a cyclone to me,” spluttered Sam.  “I’d give a good deal to be out of it.”

To keep from, being swamped they had to run out to sea.  This was no pleasant prospect to the boys, but it could not be helped.

“We needn’t tell the girls,” said Dick.  “It will only worry them more, without doing any good.”

Two hours went by, and the storm kept on as madly as ever.  Night was now coming on, and soon it was impossible to see a hundred feet in any direction.  The yacht’s lanterns were lit, and one was hoisted on a stick which Dick nailed to the stump of the mast.

“We’ve got to, have some sort o’ light,” said Captain Jerry.  “If not, we may run afoul o’ some other craft.”

The time went by slowly, each hour seeming an age.  Nobody felt like eating, and nothing was said about supper until nearly nine o’clock, when Dora opened the cabin door and called Dick: 

“We thought we would get to shore before eating,” she said.  “How much longer will we be out, do you think?”

“There is no telling, Dora,” he replied evasively.

“No telling?  Doesn’t Captain Jerry know where we are?”

“Hardly.  You see it is so dark, and we can’t make any headway with the mast gone.”

“How stupid of me!  I should have known that.  Shall we try to fix up some supper?”

“You might pass some sandwiches.  But, no, we had better come down, one at a time,” returned Dick.

This suggestion was carried out, Captain Jerry being the last to go down, leaving the wheel in the hands of Dick and Tom.

“Don’t ye let it git away from ye,” was his caution.  “If ye do it will be good-by, ‘Liza Jane, an’ all of us goin’ slam bang to Davy Jones’ locker!”

From old Jerry the girls learned that they would probably have to remain on the yacht all night.