They'd be ever so much nearer."
"Tried it," replied Bradford succintly. "Nearly lost the whole
business."
Nobody said anything for some time, but all looked helplessly to
where the vessels--from this elevation insignificant among the
tumbling waters--were pounding to pieces.
At this moment from the river a trail of black smoke became visible
over the point of sand-hill that ran down to the pier. A smokestack
darted into view, slowed down, and came to rest well inside the
river-channel. There it rose and fell regularly under the influence
of the swell that swung in from the lake. The crowd uttered a
cheer, and streamed in the direction of the smokestack.
"Come and see what's up," suggested Bradford.
He hitched Prince to a log sticking up at an angle from the sand,
and led the way to the pier.
There they had difficulty in getting close enough to see; but
Bradford, preceding the two women, succeeded by patience and
diplomacy in forcing a way. The SPRITE was lying close under the
pier, the top of her pilot-house just about level with the feet of
the people watching her. She rose and fell with the restless
waters. Fat rope-yarn bumpers interposed between her sides and the
piling.
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