The rest of the fleet had likewise dragged. The _Reindeer_ was almost
abreast of them; _La Caprice_ lay a few hundred yards away; and to
leeward, straggling between them and shore, were five more of the
struggling oyster-boats.
"Two missing," 'Frisco Kid announced, putting the glasses to his eyes
and searching the beach.
"And there 's one!" he cried. And after studying it carefully he added:
"The _Go Ask Her_. She 'll be in pieces in no time. I hope they got
ashore."
French Pete looked through the glasses, and then Joe. He could clearly see
the unfortunate sloop lifting and pounding in the surf, and on the beach he
spied the men who made up her crew.
"Where 's ze _Ghost_?" French Pete queried.
'Frisco Kid looked for her in vain along the beach; but when he turned the
glass seaward he quickly discovered her riding safely in the growing light,
half a mile or more to windward.
"I 'll bet she did n't drag a hundred feet all night," he said. "Must 've
struck good holding-ground."
"Mud," was French Pete's verdict. "Just one vaire small patch of mud right
there. If she get t'rough it she 's a sure-enough goner, I tell you dat.
Her anchors vaire light, only good for mud. I tell ze boys get more heavy
anchors, but dey laugh. Some day be sorry, for sure."
One of the sloops to leeward raised a patch of sail and began the terrible
struggle out of the jaws of destruction and death.
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