"The old girl don't seem to be makin' headway in the right
direction," McGuffey remarked plaintively, after the _Maggie_ had
strained at the hawser for five minutes. Mr. Gibney, standing by
with a hammer in his hand, nodded affirmatively, while the
skipper of the _Chesapeake_, whom Mr. Gibney had had the
forethought to carry out on deck to watch the operation, glanced
apprehensively ashore. Scraggs measured the distance with his eye
to the nearest fringe of surf and it was plain that he was
worried.
"Captain Scraggs," the skipper of the _Chesapeake_ called feebly,
"Mr. Gibney is right. That craft of yours is unable to tow my
ship against this wind. You're losing ground, inch by inch, and
it will be only a matter of an hour or two, if you hang on to me,
before I'll be in the breakers and a total loss. You'll have to
get sail on her or let go the anchor until a tug arrives."
"I don't know a thing about a sailin' ship," Scraggs quavered.
"I know it all," Mr. Gibney cut in, "but there ain't money enough
in the world to induce me to exercise that knowledge to your
profit." He turned to the master of the _Chesapeake_. "For one
hundred dollars each, McGuffey an' I will sail her in for you,
sir.
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