d all the boy could do was to make a rapid mental calculation,
based on what he knew of the consumption of the engine. The tank, he
knew, had been half full when they came out, and that, under ordinary
conditions, would have sufficed to drive the Flying Fish for five or
six hours.

But they were not ordinary conditions under which she was now laboring.
Tubby knew that Merritt was piling in every ounce of gasoline the
carburetor could take care of.

Suddenly, while the stout youth's mind was busied with these thoughts,
and without the slightest warning, there came a sort of wheezing gasp
from the motor.

Merritt leaned over it in alarm. He seized the timing lever and shoved
it over and opened the gasoline cock full tilt.

But there was no response from the motor.

It gasped out a cough a couple of times and turned over in a dying
fashion for a few revolutions and then stopped dead.

The boys were adrift in the teeth of the storm in a crippled boat.

"What's the matter?" roared back Tubby from the wheel. "She's lost
steerage way!"

"Motor's gone dead," howled back Merritt laconically.

"Great Scott, we are in for it now! What's the matter?"

"No gasolene," yelled Merritt.

"Sosh-osh-soh!"

A huge green wave climbed on to the Flying Fish's bow, shaking her from
stem to stern like a terrier shakes a rat.

"We've got to do something quick, or we'll be swamped!" roared Merritt.

"The cockpit cover, quick!" shouted Tubby, steadying himself in the
bucking craft by a tight grasp on the bulwarks.

"That's it. Now the oars. Hurry up. Here, you Hiram, grab that can and
bail for all you're worth!"

The fat youth seemed transformed by the sudden emergency into the most
active of beings.

"What are you going to do?" yelled Merritt, framing his mouth with his
hands.

"Make a spray hood. Come forward here and give me a hand."

With the oars the two boys made a sort of arched framework, secured
with ropes, and over it spread the canvas cockpit cover, lashing it
down to the forward and side cleats. This work was not unattended with
danger and difficulty. Time and again as they worked the boys had to
lie flat on their stomachs and hang on while the Flying Fish leaped a
wave like a horse taking a barrier. At last, however, their task was
completed, and the improvised spray hood served to some extent to break
the waves that now threatened momentarily to engulf the laboring craft.

"Now to get out a sea anchor!" sh