“God have mercy on their souls!” ’Frisco Kid said solemnly.

Joe was too horrified at the suddenness of the catastrophe to utter a sound.

“Sailed her clean under, and, with the ballast she carried, went straight to bottom,” ’Frisco Kid gasped.  Then, turning to their own pressing need, he said:  “Now we ’ve got to look out for ourselves.  The back of the storm broke in that puff, but the sea ’ll kick up worse yet as the wind eases down.  Lend a hand and hang on with the other.  We ’ve got to get her head-on.”

Together, knives in hand, they crawled forward to where the pounding wreckage hampered the boat sorely.  ’Frisco Kid took the lead in the ticklish work, but Joe obeyed orders like a veteran.  Every minute or two the bow was swept by the sea, and they were pounded and buffeted about like a pair of shuttlecocks.  First the main portion of the wreckage was securely fastened to the forward bitts; then, breathless and gasping, more often under the water than out, they cut and hacked at the tangle of halyards, sheets, stays, and tackles.  The cockpit was taking water rapidly, and it was a race between swamping and completing the task.  At last, however, everything stood clear save the lee rigging.  ’Frisco Kid slashed the lanyards.  The storm did the rest.  The Dazzler drifted swiftly to leeward of the wreckage till the strain on the line fast to the forward bitts jerked her bow into place and she ducked dead into the eye of the wind and sea.

Pausing only for a cheer at the success of their undertaking, the two lads raced aft, where the cockpit was half full and the dunnage of the cabin all afloat.  With a couple of buckets procured from the stern lockers, they proceeded to fling the water overboard.  It was heartbreaking work, for many a barrelful was flung back upon them again; but they persevered, and when night fell the Dazzler, bobbing merrily at her sea-anchor, could boast that her pumps sucked once more.  As ’Frisco Kid had said, the backbone of the storm was broken, though the wind had veered to the west, where it still blew stiffly.

“If she holds,” ’Frisco Kid said, referring to the breeze, “we ’ll drift to the California coast sometime to-morrow.  Nothing to do now but wait.”

They said little, oppressed by the loss of their comrades and overcome with exhaustion, preferring to huddle against each other for the sake of warmth and companionship.  It was a miserable night, and they shivered constantly from the cold.  Nothing dry was to be obtained aboard, food, blankets, everything being soaked with the salt water.  Sometimes they dozed; but these intervals were short and harassing, for it seemed each took turn in waking with such sudden starts as to rouse the other.

At last day broke, and they looked about.  Wind and sea had dropped considerably, and there was no question as to the safety of the Dazzler.  The coast was nearer than they had expected, its cliffs showing dark and forbidding in the gray of dawn.  But with the rising of the sun they could see the yellow beaches, flanked by the white surf, and beyond—­it seemed too good to be true—­the clustering houses and smoking chimneys of a town.