within reach of the unfortunate steamer. Gradually the Iroquois drew near to the smother of white water. The sea was shoaling fast and the tide was running out, but the captain kept on in the hope that he could get near enough to shoot a line aboard the Capitol City. His shells, and the shot line, loosely wound in the faking box so that it would run out freely, were ready for instant use. All that was necessary was to remove the canvas cover from the little gun on the after rail, insert the charge, and shoot. But the Iroquois never came within shooting distance. Too rapidly the water shoaled, and at last, reluctantly, the commander gave the word and the anchor-chain was held taut. The Iroquois was rolling, head to the sea, at the very edge of the breakers, but she was too far away from the Capitol City to put a shot across her.
“Tell them we'll float a line down to them, and for them to be on the lookout for it,” the captain ordered the wireless man.
The latter sat down at his key, but a moment later switched off. The Capitol City’s wireless was failing. He shifted to the blinkers, and for the first time Henry had opportunity to see the lights on the yardarm flash and blink. From the Capitol City came answering winks from aloft.
“They’re looking for our line,” the wireless man informed the captain.
