He was mortally tired and desperately sleepy. His eyes almost
closed as he dipped and dipped in the salt water which, in spite of all
his efforts, grew steadily deeper in the bottom of the boat. The lower she
sank, the more quickly the water spurted in. Each minute that passed
brought the inevitable end closer.
Once he glanced up to see, if possible, where they were. To the right tall
black cliffs towered against the night sky, to the left the stars twinkled
in the ripples of the deep and wide Straits.
Roy pulled like a machine, but the weight of water made his efforts almost
useless. The boat sogged slowly forward like a dead thing.
'She won't last another five minutes,' said Ken.
'And there's no landing place, old chap. We're right up against it.'
'Tell you what there is, though,' said Ken keenly. 'There's a craft of
some sort out there. Don't you hear her engines?'
Roy stopped pulling a moment. In the silence a faint chug, chug reached
their ears.
'What do you think she is--one of our warships?' he asked in a whisper.
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