they shook their heads to rid their faces of water, and looked eagerly, and somewhat anxiously, first into the interior of their craft to see how much water she had shipped, and then both peered, somewhat apprehensively, toward a long, low-lying body of land toward which they were urging their boat. 

4

 “It’s a good bit off yet,” said Ned, as he pointed toward Fire Island. 

 “Yes, but don’t worry. We’ll make it,” his brother reassured him. “Guess I’ll start the bilge pump. No use having all this water sloshing around our feet.” 

 “I’ll start the pump. You keep to the wheel,” answered Ned. “I don’t want to try my hand at steering just at the present time. Say, this is some storm!” 

 The younger lad threw into gear a small auxiliary pump attached to the motor. This pump was designed to free the boat of water, for Frank and Ned Arden often went some distance out to sea in their craft, and more than once they had shipped enough water to make them not only uncomfortable, but to put them in danger. So, to avoid the heavy and tiring work of baling, they had installed a small but powerful pump. 

 This the motor was soon operating, sending the water over the side by means of a small hose. 5 

5

 “That’s better,” observed Frank, when the interior of the dory was almost free from the fluid. “Shut off the pump now, Ned. I want all the power of the motor I can get.” 

 “Why, aren’t we holding our own?” 

 “Yes, but not much more than that. The tide’s running strong, and it will be worse when we get to the inlet.” 

 Ned peered through the gloom caused by the lowering storm-clouds, and sought to read his brother’s face. Ned was not afraid, nor a coward, but if there was danger ahead he wanted to be prepared for the worst. However, the countenance of Frank showed no unusual anxiety, though his lips were firmly and grimly closed. Frank would drive on through the storm, and if it were humanly possible he would bring the boat safely through the inlet of Fire Island and into the quiet and protected waters of Great South Bay. 

 Frank and Ned Arden lived with their uncle, Philip Arden, just outside the town of Ipswhich, Long Island. Their home was a large, 

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