At the Black Rocks (Musaicum Christmas Specials). Edward A. Rand

asked Johnny in tones a bit alarmed.

      "Easy. Just let the anchor slip back again, you know."

      "Shan't we tell the boys?"

      "Wait a moment. We want to surprise 'em. They'll find it out pretty soon."

      The boys at the stern had been discussing a subject so eagerly that every one had lost his temper, and when that is lost it may not be found again in a moment. It was like starting the Relentless--a thing quite easily done; but as for stopping her--however, I will not anticipate. The boys were quarrelling about a light on shore, and wondering why that illumination was started so early, when it did not seem dark enough for a home light. In the course of the discussion a second light, not far from the first, came into view. Over this the controversy waxed hotter than ever, and led to much being said of which all felt heartily ashamed.

      No one heard the creak of the capstan-bar at the bow or the devoted wooing of the Relentless by the fascinating "Reuben Ranzo."

      "That's funny," said Dave, after a while. "One of those lights has gone. They have been approaching one another, I have noticed. Look here, fellers: I believe this old elephant is moving!"

      "She is," exclaimed Jimmy Davis.

      They all turned and looked toward the bow. The figures there were growing dim in the thickening twilight, but they could see Dick and Johnny waving their hats, and of course they could plainly hear them shout, "Hurrah! hurrah!"

      "What's the matter?" cried Dave, rushing across the deck.

      "Having a sail," said Dick.

      "And without a sail too," cried Johnny triumphantly.

      "What do you mean?" asked Dab.

      "Why, we just hoisted the anchor, and the tide is taking us along," replied Dick. The party at the stern did not know how to take this announcement.

      "But," said Dave, advancing toward the capstan, and remembering his promise to Squire Sylvester that he would be "particular," "we are adrift, man!"

      "Oh, we can stop any time--just drop the anchor--and the next tide will drift us back where we were before."

      "Y-e-s," said Dave, but reluctantly, "if we don't get in water too deep for our anchor. I like fun, Dick, but--"

      "Oh, well," replied Dick angrily, "we will stop her now if you think we need to be so fussy.--Just let her go, Johnny."

      Johnny, however, did not understand how to "let her go." It seemed to him and the others as if "she" were already going.

      "Oh, well, I can show you, if you all are ignorant," said Dick confidently. "Just shove on this bar--help, won't you?--and then knock up that ratchet that keeps the capstan from slipping back--there!"

      The weight of the anchor now drew on the capstan, and round it spun, creaking and groaning, liberating all the cable that had been wound upon it; but when every inch of cable had been paid out, what then?

      "There! The anchor must be on bottom, and she holds!" shouted Dick in triumph.

      "No--she--don't," replied Dab. "We are in deep water, and adrift."

      "Can't be," asserted Dick. "All that cable paid out!"

      Dick leaned over the vessel's rail and tried to pierce the shadows on the water and see if he could detect any movement. "Don't--see--anything that looks like moving, boys. Surely the anchor holds her," he said, in a very subdued way.

      "Dick, see that rock on the shore?" asked Dave.

      A ledge, big, shadowy, could be made out.

      "Now, boys, keep your eyes on that two or three minutes and see if we stay abreast of it," was Dave's proposed test.

      Five pairs of eyes were strained, watching the ledge; but if there had been five hundred, they would not have seen any proof that the vessel was stationary.

      The ledge was stationary, but the Relentless--

      "Well," said Dick, scratching his head, "I don't think we need worry. We--we--"

      "Can drift," said Dab scornfully.

      "It is of no use to cry over spilled milk," said Dave, in a tone meant to assure others. "Let's make the best of it, now it's done, and get some fun out of it if we can. All aboard for--Patagonia!"

      "Good for you," whispered Dick. "The others are chicken-hearted. We shall come out of it all right; though I wish the schooner's rudder worked, and we might steer her."

      The rudder was damaged and would not work.

      "Say, boys, we might tow her into shallow water!" suggested Dave. "Come on, come on! Let's have some fun. And see--there's the moon!"

      Yes, there was a moon rising above the eastern waters, shooting a long, tremulous arrow of light across the sea. The boys' spirits rose with the moon, and as the light strengthened, their surroundings--the harbour, the lighthouse near the bar, the shores on either hand--were not so indistinct.

      "Not so bad," said Dick in a low tone to Dab. "There's our boat, you know. We can get into that and let this old wreck go. We can get ashore. We will have a lot of fun out of this."

      The situation was delightful, as Dick continued to paint its attractions. They could have a "lot of fun" out of the schooner, and at the same time abandon the source of it when that failed them. Dave talked differently.

      "Come, boys, we must try to get the old hulk ashore," he said. "I believe in staying by this piece of property long as we got permission to use it; but we will make the best of our situation. All hands into the boat to tow the schooner into shallow water!"

      The boys responded with a happy shout, and climbed over the vessel's side, descending by the ladder that still clung to the rail.

      "What have we got to tow with?" asked Jimmy Davis.

      "That is a conundrum!" replied Dave. "Didn't think of that!"

      "May find something on the deck," suggested Dick.

      A hunt was made, but no rope could be found.

      "Boys, we have got to tow with the boat's painter; it's all we have got," said Dave, in a disgusted tone. This rope was about ten feet long. It was attached to the schooner's bow, and how those small arms did strain on the oars and strive to coax the Relentless into shoal water!

      "Give us a sailor's song, Dick," said Jimmy Davis.

      "I will, boys, when I get my breath," replied Dick, puffing after his late efforts and wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'll start 'Reuben Ranzo.'"

      The boys sang with a will, and their voices made a fine chorus.

      "Reuben" had been able to coax the schooner away from her moorings, but he could not win her back.

      True to her name, she obstinately drifted on.

      "Don't you know anything else?" inquired Dave.

      "I know 'Haul the Bow-line.'"

      "Give us that, Dick."

      "I'll start you on the words, boys,--

      'Haul the bow-line, Kitty is my darling;

       Haul the bow-line, the bow-line haul.'

      Sing and pull, boys."

      The boys sang and the boys pulled, and there was a fierce straining on that bow-line; but no soft words about "Kitty" had any effect on the Relentless. It seemed as if this obdurate creature were moved by an ugly jealousy of "Kitty," and drifted on and on.

      "It's of no use!" declared Dick. "I move we untie our rope and go ashore and let the old thing go. We have done what we could to get ashore."

      He did not say that he had done what he could to get the Relentless adrift, and had fully succeeded. Dave did not twit him with the fact, but he was not ready to abandon the schooner.

      Some of the boys murmured regrets about