brine. Each man clung to something for life, as the deck sloped like a
house roof.

"Ease her! Ease her!" roared the captain from the main weather
bobstays. "For your lives, men! Shove her nose up in the wind."

The scud, as it struck the port bow, flew like shot across the deck.
So acute was the shriek of the wind, even shouted orders could hardly
be heard.

The Wanderer, trembling like a living thing, slowly--at first almost
imperceptibly--rose from the blows hammering at her sides like thunder.
There was a long moment of intense, even agonizing suspense, then she
began to forge ahead, buffeted, battered, heeling dizzily still to
leeward, yet--saved, for the time being at least.

"That was a close call, captain," remarked Duff as the two stood
together five minutes later, clinging to the weather shrouds.

"I should say so. Who first heard the thing coming?"

"Young Granger, I believe. There's good stuff in that lad, I make bold
to say."

These words shouted into Gary's ear, for the squall was still at its
height, caused a deep scowl to settle on the captain's brow. He turned
away without a word.

"Gary doesn't like that boy for some reason," was the mate's inward
comment. "I wonder why?"