In an instant the little dingy had been slid overboard and the boys
were sitting in the stern; then Captain Tom stepped aboard and was
soon pulling mightily away from the _Ella_ and across the line of
progress of the waterspout. But it was all too late. The dingy was
less than two hundred feet from the _Etta_ when she began to toss,
lifting her bow high and then plunging it deep beneath the surface.
The first touch of the waterspout carried away mast and sails and
swept clear the deck. In another instant the schooner was engulfed,
but her bulk broke the back of the waterspout and it began to sway;
its straight, smooth column began to kink up and break, and many
hundred tons of water fell crashing into the Gulf. When the great
column fell the dingy was within three hundred feet and, as Captain
Tom threw his weight on the oars in a last effort to increase the
distance, one of the oars snapped and the captain fell on his back
in the bow of the boat, striking his head on the gunwale with a
force that stunned him. At this moment the outflowing wave from the
falling water swept over the skiff, rolling it upside down. Dick,
who was a regular water-dog, saw the big wave coming and, as it
rolled the dingy over, he sank for a moment beneath the surface till
the wave had passed, then came up with all his senses alert. He swam
to the capsized dingy, which was near him, and was soon joined by
Johnny.

"Where's the captain?" shouted Dick. "We've got to find him. Look
everywhere, Johnny."

The broken water was now tossing madly and it seemed an age to Dick
before he caught a glimpse of the captain's head on the crest of a
wave two boat's lengths distant. He swam to the place, and searched