e scuppers--or the holes by which water runs
off the deck--dipped under the waves, and there was plenty of sea
aboard.

"Set that storm jib!" came the next order, when the main sails had been
furled, and that was no easy task with the sharp pitching and tossing of
the schooner. Not a very seamanlike job was made of it, but there was no
time for the finer touches. The sails were just clewed up to prevent
them from blowing away, until more time could be devoted to them.

The storm jib, which is the sail furthest front on a vessel, unless it
be a flying jib, was set to give her enough way so she would respond to
the helm, for it was necessary to keep the craft before the wind, and
head on to the seas--that is, the big waves must be cut and broken by
the sharp prow, or bow, for had they come at the schooner sideways, she
would have been swamped instantly.

Even the small area of the storm jib was hardly necessary. The _Mary
Ellen_, in that blow, would have scudded along fairly well "under bare
poles," that is with no sails set at all. Even Captain Brisco had his
doubts about the storm jib resisting. It might pull away from the
holding ropes at any moment. But its loss would do no harm, for it would
only be blown out to sea, and there were enough spare sails.

So, as I have said, order came out of confusion, but even the order was
somewhat confused, at least to the members of the moving picture
company. They had been ordered below, and had managed, somehow, to get
there, though more than one received bumps and bruises on the pitching,
tossing companionway.

"Oh, what an awful storm!" complained Miss Dixon, when they were huddled
in the cabin.

"Isn't it awful--terrible!" agreed her companion. "I am frightened to
death. We may sink at any minute."

"Oh, not so much danger of that in a wooden ship," said Paul
consolingly. He wished the two former vaudeville actresses would try to
have a little courage.

"I am so frightened," murmured Miss Pennington. "I wish Captain Brisco
would come down here."

"What for?" asked Alice, hardly able to keep the contempt out of her
voice.

"So he could tell us if we are in any danger, and what we ought to do,"
was the selfish answer. "He _must_ save us!"

"He's trying to save the ship!" said Alice, "and you two ought to be
ashamed of yourselves at a time like this. Think of poor Russ and Mr.
Sneed out in that motorboat all alone!"

"Oh, but they--they're men," faltered Miss Dixo