thing on the sea, save the mountains of water that were
leaping toward them.

"We must be nearing the place, Mr. Coates," shouted the captain in the
ear of his executive officer. "Keep a sharp lookout now. We don't
want to have a collision with an old water-logged hulk in this gale.
We should run an excellent chance of going to the bottom ourselves."

"Yes, sir," agreed Mr. Coates, as, raising his megaphone, he warned all
lookouts to be on their guard.

Sam Hickey, proud in the consciousness that he had been the first to
sight the signals of distress, was scanning the troubled seas with keen
eyes, from which now and then he brushed the salt brine with an
impatient hand.

"If I could see, I'd see," he complained to himself. "I wonder if they
have turned out Dan. He knows where I am anyway. There she blows!"
suddenly shouted the red-haired boy.

"He's sighted a whale," laughed a young midshipman.

"What do you mean?" roared the captain.

"Light dead ahead, sir. Rocket again, sir."

"Aye, aye," was the answer from the bridge.

The officers there had plainly seen the signal rocket this time, and
the green ball seemed to shoot up into the clouds from directly beneath
the bow of the "Long Island." The battleship was at that moment riding
a mountainous swell, while the vessel from which the signal had been
fired was wallowing in the trough of the sea far below. It seemed as
if the battleship must slide down the steep wall of water and crush the
vessel laboring in the hollow so far beneath them.

"Port your helm!" commanded the captain. "Slow speed astern, starboard
engine. Hold her there!"

"There she is, sir," shouted the executive officer, leveling his night
glass on the sea valley.

"What do you make of her?"

"Not much of anything. I see faint lights aboard, but that is all."

"Number one searchlight there," called the captain.

"Aye, aye, sir," answered the sailor in charge of the light.

"Throw a light off the port quarter and see if you can pick up that
ship."

"Aye, aye, sir."

An instant later a broad shaft of light pierced the blackness of the
night. The beam of light traveled slowly about, finally coming to rest
on an object in the sea some distance ahead. On this object the
officers focused their night glasses.

"Four-masted schooner, sir," called Sam Hickey from his elevated
position beside the searchlight.

"All sticks standing?"

"No, sir."

"No, she has only two poles