Part 27 (1/2)

”There are no islands around here,” answered Tom. ”I looked on the chart to make sure.”

”In that case we can't hit anything. I am thinking--”

”Back her!” yelled d.i.c.k, through the speaking tube, and then jingled the bell.

Tom leaped for the engine and reversed it. There was a pause, and they felt the steam yacht swing half around. Then, after a wait, d.i.c.k ordered the speed ahead.

”What was wrong?” asked Tom, at the tube.

”Light right ahead,” was the answer. ”We cleared it by fifty feet.

But I was scared, I can tell you that.”

”What kind of a light?”

”A steamer--tramp, I reckon. She's way behind now.”

Sam ran on deck to get a view of the stranger, but the fury of the storm shut out the sight.

”I suppose you didn't see much of her, d.i.c.k,” he said, going into the wheelhouse.

”I saw enough,” was the grim response. ”I thought we were going to have a smashup sure, and I reckon the other pilot thought the same.”

”Did you see anybody on board?”

”Not a soul. She came up like a ghost, with only two lights showing, and by the time I had backed and turned she was gone. But it nearly gave me nervous collapse,” added the amateur pilot.

The wind was now so heavy that it sent the rain against the pilot house in solid sheets. d.i.c.k could not see ahead at all and he requested Sam to go to the bow, to keep the best lookout possible.

”If you see anything wrong yell to me,” he said. ”And be careful that you don't tumble overboard.” And then he spoke to Tom through the tube and asked the amateur engineer to play fireman also for the time being.

Wrapped in the raincoat, and with a cap pulled far down over his head, Sam took up his station near the bow, clinging to the rail for protection. He knew their safety depended in good part on keeping a sharp lookout and he eyed the darkness ahead closely. So far there had been little lightning and scarcely any thunder, but now the rumbling increased until there came a crash and a flare that made all on the _Mermaid_ jump.

”Did that hit us?” yelled Tom up the tube.

”No, but it was pretty close,” answered d.i.c.k,

”Where is Sam now?”

”At the forward rail. I can see nothing from the wheelhouse.”

”If it gets much worse you had better come below and let the boat run itself, d.i.c.k.”

”I can't do that, Tom--I must stick to my post.”

Another half-hour went by, and there was no let up in the fury of the storm. Poor Sam was almost exhausted and, tying the wheel fast for the time being, d.i.c.k went to him.

”Better come in,” he said. ”If you'll take the wheel I'll stay out here. Just keep her straight before the storm.”

”All right,” panted poor Sam, and made his way back to the wheelhouse step by step, and holding on to whatever was handy, to keep from being swept overboard.