As the boat of which Mr. Bender was to take charge was being lowered, one of the ropes in the davit pulley, that at the bow, fouled, and, as the sailors at the other davit were letting their line run free, the boat tilted.  There was imminent risk of the oars, sail, and mast, besides the supplies, being spilled out.  Bob saw the danger and sprang forward with a shout, intending to lend a hand.

As he did so a big piece of one of the yards of the broken mizzen mast which had been hanging by splinters was whipped loose by a gust of wind and fell almost at his feet, missing him by a small margin.  Had it struck him squarely it would have killed him.

Bob only hesitated an instant, though the narrow escape gave him a faint feeling in his stomach.  Then, before he could make the sailors understand what the trouble was, he grabbed the rope that was running free and, taking a turn about a cleat, prevented the further lowering of the boat.

“Good!” shouted Second-Mate Bender, who had seen what had taken place.  “You saved the boat, Bob.  In another second all the stuff would have been afloat.  Lively now, men.  Straighten out that line and lower away.  She’s settling fast.”

In the meanwhile Mr. Carr had succeeded in lowering his boat, and he and his men were in it.  The crew of the captain’s gig were busy with that craft, and it was all ready to lower.

“Get in, Bob,” said the commander of the Eagle.  “And you too, Mr. Tarbill.”

“Aren’t you coming?” asked Bob.

“I’m the last one in,” was the sad answer, and then the boy understood that the captain is always the last to leave a sinking ship.

“Shall we get in before you lower it?” asked Bob of the sailors who stood at the davit ropes.

“Yes.  We can lower it with you two in.  The captain and we can slide down the ropes.  We’re used to it, but it’s ticklish business for land-lubbers.”  And the man grinned even in that time of terror.

Captain Spark had gone to his cabin for his log book, the ship’s papers, and his nautical instruments.  As he came out the red sun showed for an instant above the horizon.

“If we had seen that a few hours sooner we wouldn’t be here now,” remarked the commander sadly.  “But it’s too late now.”

The other boats had pulled away from the wreck.  Bob and Mr. Tarbill got into the gig and were lowered to the surface of the heaving ocean.

“Take an oar and fend her away from the ship’s side a bit,” the captain advised Bob.  “Else a wave may smash the gig.”

Bob did so.  Mr. Tarbill was shivering too much with fear to be of any help.  A few seconds later the two sailors who had lowered the boat at the captain’s orders leaped into the gig as a wave lifted it close to the Eagle’s rail.  Then the commander, carrying a few of his possessions and with a last look around his beloved ship, made the same jump and was in his gig.