The spray
began to come over the rail, and Han and Perry tugged down a flapping
curtain and lashed it to the stanchions. The next time Steve looked for
the _Follow Me_ she was no longer in sight, for the darkness had closed
in between the two craft.
"This is a mess," shouted Steve, peering through the spray-wet glass
ahead. "I wish we were about seven or eight miles further along,
fellows."
"Well, we will be presently," replied Phil cheerfully. "I dare say this
blow won't last long. It's only a squall, probably."
"It's a good one, then," muttered Steve. "If you don't believe it take
hold of this wheel. Feel her kick? Keep a lookout for that island in
there, Joe."
Things went from bad to worse and ten minutes after the first warning
the _Adventurer_ was tossing about like a cork, her propeller as often
out of water as in, and making hard work of it.
They had to hold tight to whatever was nearest to keep from being
pitched across the bridge deck. The seas began to pile in over the roof
of the after cabin and the deck was soon awash. Steve held to the wheel
like grim death, with Joe at his side when needed, and they plunged on.
But it didn't take Steve long to realise that to attempt to make the
haven under such conditions would be folly.
Pages:
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214