her action was a little too violent. The strain jerked one pintle out, and the rudder floated up on its side. Joan sprang for the halyards again and got the sail down, while Garth achieved a sort of flying leap to unship the rudder. But it was entirely too much for him; a big wave swept both it and the tiller out from under his hand and whirled them away. Joan secured the boom; then sat down silently. She felt utterly dismayed. Garth was struggling with an oar.
"You're not going to sit there, are you?" he said. "The first thing you know, we'll be drifted past Trasket, and then we'll never get her back."
"Wouldn't it be better to let her drift?" asked Joan. "In time she'd go almost home."
"But we don't want to go home!" Garth said; "we want to seek for the treasure. Help me get out this oar, Joan. We'll have to rig it up for a steering-paddle."
Joan reflected that, after all, it might be safer to land on Trasket Rock while they could and wait for the squall to blow itself entirely out. She rigged the oar and lashed it. Garth held it in position while she wearily hoisted the sail once more, and the Ailouros lurched off, the
