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He showed his worried face at the hatchway, adding:
"The tank's empty! The last drops of gasoline are running into the motor!"
"What's that?" demanded Tom aghast. "How could that have happened?"
"I don't know," was Joe's bewildered response. "The tank was half-full when we got back from Wood's Hole early this morning. But now it's empty. Look for yourself."
The propeller shaft made a few faint turns, then stopped. Having little headway by this time the "Meteor" soon began to drift aimlessly over the rolling waters.
"I don't need to look," Tom answered, dropping his hand from the wheel "I can see enough to believe you, Joe. But how on earth could this have happened, Joe?"
"It didn't happen without some one tampering with the tank," Joe exploded resentfully. "There's no leak in the tank. We should, by rights, have oil enough to run to New York and back."
There being nothing now that he could do in the engine room, Dawson stepped moodily up on deck. The girls watched Captain Tom's face. Mrs.
Lester, her curiosity aroused by the stopping of speed, attempted to come forward along the deck. The rolling of the craft made this so dangerous for her that Jed sprang forward, piloting her safely forward.
There the situation was soon made plain to the frightened mother.
"What are we going to do?" she asked.
"I don't know," Tom asked, the gla.s.s to his eyes, as he looked over the rolling waters. "Had our gasoline held out we could have made the pier with time to spare."
"Is there real danger, then?" demanded Mrs. Lester, her face betraying her great alarm.
"There's a northeast blow, and a big one, going to strike us within half an hour," the young skipper replied. "And there's not a craft in sight I can signal to. Our anchors wouldn't hold in the blow that's coming."
"Can't you signal the Dunstan place?" asked the much-alarmed lady.
"Yes, but I doubt if they could see our signals, our mast is so low and the distance so great."
"But they have that steam launch there. If you could make them understand, captain, they could send the launch out to us."
"The launch is too small a craft to face the blow that's coming," Tom rejoined gravely. "Besides, Mr. Dunstan has no one who knows anything about handling a marine steam engine. If you ladies will go into the cabin--"
"And feel like rats in a trap while there's danger!" remonstrated Mrs.
Lester. "Oh, please don't ask us to leave the deck. We'll feel safer here. At least we shall be able to see what's happening."
"Get the lifelines, Joe, and rig them quickly," spoke Tom gravely. "Jed, help me to get the anchors overboard. We'll do everything we can."
While the boys worked like beavers the wind came down upon them with ever-increasing force. At first the anchors held, the "Meteor" straining at her cables.
"Here comes a squall!" shouted Tom, suddenly. "Catch hold! Hold fast!
We'll soon know about our anchors."
As the squall struck, the "Meteor" heeled over. The ladies screamed with fright. Even the motor boat boys felt the thrill of dread. The boat rolled as though she were going to turn turtle. Then, slowly, she righted herself.
"One of the cables has parted!" shouted Jed, through the increasing tempest.
Another and heavier squall struck them, again heeling the motor boat over. She righted herself, but the gale was becoming stronger, and, despite the remaining anchor, the "Meteor" now began to drift toward the lee sh.o.r.e of Muskeget.
Miss Elsie, deathly white, and clutching desperately at the lifelines, began to sob.
"It's fearful, I know," spoke Captain Tom, quietly. "But we've got to face it and hope for the best. You were admiring courage a while ago, but now you can show as much as any man could."
"You're right," Miss Elsie called back through the roar of the gale, as she steadied herself. "Thank you; by pointing out the need of courage you've given me much."
Tom turned to stare, with grave, impa.s.sive face, to leeward. An eighth of a mile off the beach at Muskeget lay a reef ordinarily sunken below the surface in calm weather. But now the waves were dashing over this ledge, showing the jagged points of the rough stone.
"If a miracle doesn't happen," thought the young skipper, noting the course of the boat's drift, "we'll wreck there soon, and then there's a doubt if one of us gets out of it alive!"
CHAPTER XV-IN THE TEETH OF DEATH
"What's the worst, now, captain?"
It was Miss Jessie who asked this, her lips close to the young skipper's ear, for the gale's roar now drowned out all ordinary tones.
"Do you see that line of spray?" asked Halstead, pointing to where the water dashed over the reef.
"Yes."
"I'm wondering if it's possible for us not to be dashed on that."
"Wrecked?" demanded Jessie, her face paling, but her lips steady.
"That's one of our dangers."
"And that will mean that we must be drowned?"
"We'll hope not," replied Halstead, forcing a smile. "Joe! Jed!"
Getting his friends where Mrs. Lester could not overhear, Halstead went on quickly:
"If we go to smash on the reef, remember that I'm to take the mother into the water. Joe, you take the elder daughter; Jed, you the younger one. If we have to get into the water with women's lives to save, remember the glory of American seamen!"
"I'll get ash.o.r.e double, or not at all," Joe promised, and he knew very well how little likelihood there was of reaching safety on land.
"I'll prove I'm one of you," promised Jed, though his face was ashen.
Tom grabbed his hand long enough to give it a mighty squeeze. Then the young skipper moved to the starboard rail where he could watch best. His calculations had proved correct. The "Meteor," drifting helplessly, was bound to strike on the reef. With fascinated gaze Tom watched the angry breakers.
"We're pretty near the finish, aren't we?" asked Miss Jessie in his ear.
The girl's voice was icily calm.
"I think we're going to strike within two or three minutes," Tom responded, stonily. "If we do, trust to us in the water, and try not to hamper us. I'll try to get your mother ash.o.r.e, Jed takes you, and Joe your sis--"
Tom stopped short. Where on earth was Joe? That youth had vanished from the deck.